


Love Quietly

by catnipArsen



Series: Tales of Ymir-Fritz University (and substories, perhaps) [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drama & Romance, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, One Night Stands, Safe Sane and Consensual, Slow To Update, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2018-12-10 05:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catnipArsen/pseuds/catnipArsen
Summary: *REUPLOADED*(The formatting for chapters 1-13 is all wonky because of the reupload, apologies)Ymir-Fritz University- A place where young adults can cultivate their minds and hone their skills.  They also happen to provide top-notch housing for students.Bertholdt and Reiner's relationship has never faltered.  Even after their long inevitable breakup, they were still as tight-knit as ever.At least until Bertholdt's eyes begin to wander.His eyes seem to wander to a mutual friend; someone he knows he shouldn't be looking at but he can't help it.He can't help but imagine what her lip gloss tastes like or how undeniably nervous she makes him. He can't help wondering how it is to run fingers through her hair.He can't help but wonder howgorgeousshe'd look underneath him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IM SO SORRY I accidentally deleted this one last night when I was super tired, I meant to delete another fic I had. Here it is, it's back, and I'm sorry aha
> 
> **EDIT2[3/19/18]- I'm getting this back on track, if anyone still reads this. Not sure how many of ouu are still out there. I got a lot of issues sorted out and now I'm back on track with this.**
> 
> **EDIT [08/27]- I'll be slowly working on fixing the previous 13 chapters as I'm writing new chapters. I'll fix them but itll be a slow process, so hang tight ♥**

**SATURDAY, 11 MAR**

Fingers danced rapidly against the keyboard, filling the room with clicks and taps. It went on for hours and Bertholdt was sure it would have annoyed Reiner, but the blond hardly moved at all from his position on the couch. Instead, he had popped in his headphones about an hour ago and started listening to music rather than the tak tak taking of the keyboard. Bertholdt noticed this and smirked, eyeing him just for a moment from the corner of his eye. This entire task, this paper he was writing, seemed a lot more tedious than it should have been, and for a split second he debated just turning it in as is. He desperately wanted to peel himself away from this computer; his conscience and GPA wouldn't allow him, though. Goodness, this was draining.

After another fifteen minutes, Reiner glanced up from the couch to watch Bertholdt hunched over the computer. He was staring at the monitor with both ferocity and emptiness at the same time, if that were even possible. "Hey." He exclaimed, causing Bertholdt to jump a bit in his chair. "Are you done yet?" Bertholdt sat back in the chair and sighed.

"Not yet." He murmured as he rubbed his eyes. "I think it's almost done." Reiner huffed and pulled his headphones out of his ears. It'd been a while since he'd seen his roommate looking to exhausted. The bags under Bertl's eyes were getting bigger by the minute it seemed.

"I think you're done, though. Come on, take a break." Bertholdt opened his mouth to protest--damn it, he had to get this paper done by tomorrow--but Reiner interjected and stood. "Ah, no words. You can finish it after you take a break. Just a half an hour, Bertl, that's it. Then you can type your happy little heart out." In fact, Reiner was so insistent he had walked over to Bertholdt and began pulling the chair away from the table.

Bertholdt finally stood on his own accord. "Alright. But just a half hour. What do you want to do?"

"Wanna grab a drink?"

Bertholdt raised an eyebrow. "Really? It's...10:48 at night. Don't you think that's pushing it a little? We're not kids anymore."

Reiner swatted at the air. "Psh, it'll be fine. You don't trust me?"

Bertholdt hummed over it for a moment. It's not like the bar was too far. It was two blocks away. He could always come back if he felt worried. What the hell? "Fine." And with that, Reiner gripped Bertl's hand and tugged him out the door of their apartment and hurried down the street.

The bar wasn't as full as it usually had been the last few times they'd been in. There were a few stranger patrons sitting at various tables, a couple playing pool over in the corner. A few of their classmates were parked up at the bar top; Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and Sasha. Sasha had caught them one in from the corner of her eye. "Hey guys! C'mon! Sit over here!" She waved them over. They smiled back and proceeded to take their spot beside Sasha. Bertholdt and Eren were on the ends, so communication between the two was scarce and consisted mostly of a few feeble attempts at shouting and odd non-official sign language. Reiner, though, was having a blast conversing and joking around with Sasha and Armin. Mikasa was sitting quietly sipping her drink, occasionally throwing her own jokes into the mix. Bertholdt smiled. It was a shame more people didn't bother trying to get to know Mikasa. She was hilarious.

After a few minutes of conversing, Reiner ordered himself a beer. Of course he would. Bertholdt, however, hated beer, and he couldn't drink straight alcohol. He had to start easy, with a simple screwdriver. He would work his way up into the harder alcohols later. "A screwdriver? Really Bertholdt?" Sasha grinned. "You aren't going to shake things up at all?"

Bertholdt raised his hands in defense. "W-well, I...I mean..."

"Hah, I'm just kidding with you. It's good to see y'all outside of class."

"Thanks Sasha! I feel like sometimes we don't get out as much as we used to." Reiner smiled.

Armin poked his head from behind Sasha so he could see the two. "How are your classes going anyway? Also, Bertholdt, how's your job at the print shop?"

Working at the print shop. Ugh, if Bertholdt had to think about that damned stuffy backroom one more time...in fact he was rather irritated that he would inevitably have to go back on Monday; he drank--chugged--nearly his entire drink before answering Armin's inquiry. "It's fine."

Armin blinked. "Well that's good to hear. I'm glad you're doing alright. I hope you are anyway." Bertl smiled and nodded. Armin was great too, he was always watching out for his friends. He actually mentally slapped himself for not attempting to speak to Armin more. Maybe he should start doing that. He lived across the hall for crying out loud, you'd think they talked more.

"Another screwdriver?" The bartender asked. Bertholdt had opted to try a White Russian instead. Sasha was right, why not mix it up a little bit? The drink was a little stronger than he was used to but he could roll with this.

"Hey Reiner.  Where's Annie?" Mikasa asked. Reiner shrugged.

"She's been pretty busy. We haven't seen her much ourselves."

Armin tilted his head. "Yeah, that's surprising. Aren't you pretty close to her, Bertholdt?"

Bertholdt turned away. "Y-yeah, I guess." He glanced down and continued to drink.

"Well things have been rough for her lately." Reiner continued. "She's busy, like I said. Plus...I mean, the anniversary of Marcel's...you know. It's coming up. She's taking it pretty hard. She always has. So we've been giving her space." Bertl blinked slowly.  It was never easy to talk about this...Please, let's not talk about this.

Eren looked over to them, expression doleful. "How are you two holding up about it? Is it getting any easier for you?"

Bertholdt kept looking down. He didn't want to talk about it. Reiner was always better with that sort of thing. He could always deflect and control the conversation, which is exactly what he did. Soon, they were all laughing and having a good time again. Thank you, Reiner.

It wasn't until halfway through Bertholdt's third cocktail that he realized he'd probably had too much. The world seemed to spin wildly around him. Damn, why did the bartenders here have to be so heavy handed? These drinks were stronger than they should have been, which took a toll on lightweights like Bertl. He glanced around, eventually spotting the obvious clock on the wall. Oh shit, it's 12:30 in the morning. Where did the time go? Sasha had already left about a half hour ago and most of the stranger patrons were gone, some replaced with new strange faces. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were the only ones left.

He placed a hand on Reiner's shoulder and shook him, probably a bit too aggressively. "W-we gotta go."

Reiner turned around. His face was a bright shade of pink and his eyes were a bit more glossy than usual, but a lazy smile was plastered on his face. "Hey! You wanna go already? I'm still good for ano-another hour." Bertholdt could tell from Reiner's slurred speech he was pretty drunk also. Walking home would be fun.

Bertholdt furrowed his brow. "But I gotta-"

"Yeah yeah you got your paper and stuff but it's only for a little longer ok?" Reiner slurred some more. Bertholdt tugged on his arm weakly.

"Reiner..."

Reiner chuckled a bit. "Ah, ok. You win, Bertl." He smiled and wrapped an arm around Bertl's shoulders, turning to the others. "I guess we're headin' out. See you guys on Monday?"

Eren pointed to the small shot glass in front of Reiner's seat. "You're not gonna finish that?" Bertholdt was jealous. At least Eren didn't sound like he was as drunk as they were. Reiner glanced down at his shot glass to see Berthold take the glass between his fingers and swallow it with a light grimace. He'd regret this later, but anything to get Reiner away from this bar top. Perhaps Bertl could have walked by himself, but he was rather lightweight. He'd rather have Reiner with him, especially if he was walking at midnight. Bertl was taller than Reiner, sure, but Reiner had his muscle mass to help disperse the alcohol better. He could drink a little bit more and be better off.

Reiner gasped when Bertholdt did this. "Whoa, calm down, Bertl. We ca-can go. C'mon."

They had said their goodbyes to the others and stumbled out of the bar. It wasn't until they started walking further that they really needed to lean on each other. Bertholdt was going to feel that last shot soon. Reiner was praying they'd get back to their apartment before that happened. The blond glanced over to Bertholdt to check on him. He smiled at Reiner, but kept having to lean on him every so often. Reiner smiled back. Bertholdt was putting on a brave face but Reiner new that he'd gone beyond his limit with that second cocktail he ordered. That last shot...damn, Bertl isn't going to have a great time tonight.

The two managed to get back to their apartment in one piece and after a little fumbling with the keys, Reiner was able to get the door open. It was dark and quiet when they walked in. They were perfectly alright with that. The only illumination was from the desktop that was still running. Bertholdt hadn't made it to the desk to finish his paper.  Bertholdt hadn't even managed to make it to his own bed. He flopped down on his couch. Reiner at least made it over to his room to change into his pajamas.

"See, you survived. That wasn't so hard was it?" Reiner peered over to the brunette on the couch. He was already asleep--or passed out. Reiner took the comforter off Bertl's bed and draped it over him and knelt down beside him, running his fingers through his hair for a moment. It was only for a few moments, but he wished it could have lasted longer...

He caught the desktop illumination out of the corner of his eyes again. Shit. Bertholdt never finished his paper. When was it due again? Tomorrow morning before ten? He stood and fumbled his way over to the computer, read what Bertholdt had written so far, and began typing.

Bertl's eyes slowly opened. He was still so groggy but he knew he had to wake up. It was probably well after noon. Then his eyes widened. Oh no. Noon. He jolted up from the couch and stared at the clock. Yup, 12:15 pm. "Shit!" He leaped off the couch and was prepared to make a bee-line towards the computer to make a feeble excuse to say to his professor as to why he had emailed his paper to him so late. Instead, he paused and saw Reiner asleep in the chair with Bertholdt's email open to the sent box.

Bertholdt smiled. "Thank you, Reiner."


	2. Chapter 2

**MONDAY 13 MAR**

He couldn't keep his eyes off of her during class. Luckily, Bertholdt could listen well, or else he probably would have missed everything the professor had said. Unluckily, Bertholdt's notes were haphazard, written at odd angles. Hopefully he could translate this chicken scratch later. Every so often he would manage to peel his eyes away to look at the overhead projection, but then his eyes would travel back over to Annie, who sat a few rows up and a few seats over; that is, until Annie caught him out of the corner of her eye and turned slightly to look at him. His gaze immediately shot back down to his paper full of chicken scratch, and Annie's gaze returned to the front of the class. Bertholdt never made another attempt to glance her way.

As Bertholdt was packing his supplies into his bag, he felt a presence nearby. "Hey, Bertholdt." Her voice chimed in after a moment. Bertholdt whipped his head around to face her. "Can I ask a favor of you?"

Bertl stood. His heart was beating in his chest...please don't think I'm weird, I'm sorry I was staring at you... "Y-yeah, absolutely!" Annie shuffled through her own bag and pulled out a paper that had the school's logo drawn on it and a banner wrapped around it reading 'YFU Forensics'.

"Do you think you can enlarge that 400 percent? We need this for our table at the competitions this Saturday." She explained. "They want us all to don school banners."

"Oh yeah I think we can."

"How much is it going to cost?"

Berhtoldt thought. "I-I'm not sure right now. If you want color it'll probably be more expensive. I'll check tonight though when I go into the shop."

Annie shrugged. "Just call or text me and I'll pay you back."

"Sure." Bertholdt nodded, and watched Annie take a few steps headign towards the door. "H-hey Annie!" Annie stopped and turned back to him. "What...what are you doing this Wednesday?"

Annie didn't speak for a while. Her expression hardly changed either. Bertholdt stood there hoping he hadn't said anything that would upset her. He didn't want to open too many old wounds, but he did worry for her. "I'm spending time alone. The same thing I do every year." Bertl fidgeted. What now?

"Would you...would you want to come over? Reiner and I will probably be at home. He might cook. We might watch some movies."

"No."

"O-oh. Ok. If you're sure." Bertholdt kept fidgeting, but Annie hadn't seemed to notice, or care. She turned around and began walking again. "Our door is always open for you if you change your mind. We worry about you." Annie didn't stop walking, leaving Bertholdt as the only one left in the room.

"Don't."

+++

Annie walked slowly back to her apartment. Honestly, she would much rather spend her time walking than have to go home to see her room mate. Ymir was great in small doses but today really wasn't the optimum time to be around her; this whole week, actually wasn't ideal. Hopefully Ymir would be at work, and then spend most of the night at Krista's apartment. As she climbed the stairs to her floor, she heard music coming from down the hall. Damn it. It was coming from their apartment. Ymir was home, and probably had Krista with her. Whatever. She could lock herself up in her room if she really needed.

She turned the key in the lock and wasn't surprised to see that it wasn't locked. Ymir had the horrible habit of never locking the front door. Annie had the horrible habit of always keeping the door locked, even when she was home. She entered the apartment, music blasting at an uncomfortable volume. Ymir and Krista were sitting on the couch. Krista sat in it like a normal person. Ymir was laying across it, her legs extended over Krista's. The brunette looked over towards Annie. "Hey."

"Annie! Hi!" Krista smiled. She was always so polite. She turned the volume down and attempted to scoot over to give Annie room on the couch. Ymir didn't move at all. "How are you?"

Annie shut the door behind her, twisting the deadbolt as she did so. "I'm fine. How are you, Krista?"

"I'm great. Thanks!"

"I'm doing well too, thanks for asking." Ymir snipped; Annie didn't react at all, or answer Ymir. "Hey. What's your problem?"

Annie began heading toward her room. "Nothing. Ymir, would it be possible for me to have the apartment for myself on Wednesday?"

Ymir shrugged and gave her a coy grin. "I dunno. Why? You inviting someone over?" No reply. Ymir took it as Annie being cold again; or she would have until she remembered. "Oh. That's right."

"So is that a yes?" Annie questioned.

Krista chimed in. "Yeah, she can give you space. Ymir can stay with me Wednesday. We can watch movies and play games."

"And do other things." Ymir joked, making Krista stutter and blush. Annie didn't stay long enough to find out how the rest of that conversation went. She entered her room and shut the door, threw her bag to the ground, and crawled in her bed. The picture frame on her nightstand was pointed towards her, and she stared at it. It had been a photo of the four of them; Reiner on the far right, Bertholdt, Annie, and Marcel on the far left. They were all smiling. Marcel's arm was wrapped around Annie's shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

Even though this photo was taken four years ago, Annie could remember exactly where they were when it was taken; Porco's birthday party. She could remember the song that was playing; Daft Punk's 'Get Lucky'. She could remember where they went after the party; Marcel's home. She could remember what they had for dinner; burger sliders. It was all Marcel knew how to make. She could remember what happened later that night; it was the night that she and Marcel first...

Her vision began to get blurry. Her face felt wet, and she was trembling. Annie clamped her hand over her mouth in order to stifle her sobs. It still hurt so bad. She would have good days. Great days, where she felt she could cope without having him lying next to her. She could cope without feeling his arms around her again; she could cope without listening to him laugh. Then there were bad, horrible days where it physically hurt to not have him lying beside her. It burned when his arms weren't around her. It was deafening to not hear his laugh. Annie often wondered how Reiner could be so calm about it. Had he moved on, or was he just really good at hiding the pain? At least Annie was spared the sight of what had happened to Marcel. Reiner, on the other hand...he was there. To be honest, it irritated her. She was a constant wreck because of this. Why was Reiner so alright?

+++

Bertholdt was stuck in the back of the shop feeding paper to the machine. Honestly, who needs 1,000 coloring books for an office party? At least he had been able to enlarge Annie's print. It wasn't cheap, but Bertholdt had no intention of making her pay for it. Her thanks was plenty. Would she smile, finally, when he gave it to her? Would she hug him? It'd been a while since she hugged him. Maybe she'd kiss him? He'd like that...Bertholdt snapped back to the task as hand. No! She's your friend! She's your friend who's going through a hard time! Why would you think things like that, you piece of shit? Bertholdt huffed. Well, at least his shift was almost done, then he could head home, shower, and sleep.

When Bertl walked into the apartment, Reiner was already asleep, except he had fallen asleep on the couch. Bertl just walked past him, draping a small spare blanket over him as he walked by.

Bertholdt set the banner over his bed and took a quick picture of it and sent it to Annie. She didn't reply. She didn't need to. She was probably asleep already. Bertholdt folded the banner back up and flopped onto his bed. He didn't bother to get his pajamas on, he just stripped down to his boxers and curled under the covers. Damn, he still had to shower, didn't he? He'd do it on the morning. Bertl let out one last sigh and began to doze.

The light ding of Bertholdt's phone woke him. 'Thank you.' was all it read, but Bertl smiled widely anyways. Was she smiling, too? Bertholdt hoped so. She needed it.

'Anything for yo...' no no no, delete that.

'You're welcome.' Send.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fixed a couple formatting goofs

**TUESDAY 14 MAR**

Annie sat in her usual seat before class before anyone else had arrived. It was normal for her to do so, as it was imperative for her to get her usual seat. There was no particular reason she wanted this seat, except for the fact that it was close enough to the front so she could see the board, but far back enough that attention wasn't drawn to her. Her music blasted in her ears as she waited for class to start. Honestly, why was she taking this class when sociology wasn't even part of her major? Annie saw a shadow grow from behind her. Of course, this gentile giant is why she took this course, it was a favor to him. She popped the headphones from her ears and turned to face Bertholdt. "Hey."

He held in his arms the banner he had made the night prior outstretched towards her. "Here. I even put the grommets in there so you can hang it easier." Annie reached for the banner. It was a much higher quality than she was expecting. It was plastic, as opposed to a paper banner that she had thought he'd bring. How much did...?

"How much do I owe you?" She asked, worried about the price.

"Nothing." Bertholdt shrugged. "It's a gift."

Annie gaped up at him. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely!" He gave her a small, almost feeble smile as she took the banner from him, and he stood there for a moment watching her put the banner into her bag. He didn't know if he should sit down here in this open seat next to her, or take his usual spot a few rows back. Lord, he wanted to sit here so badly. He wanted to be close to her. He wanted to... Bertholdt made his decision quickly though, as Annie turned to thank him, he had already retreated to his spot further in the back; the place where he could admire her from afar.

His notes were becoming habitually haphazard, as if Bertl was creating a language of his own. Still, it didn't deter him. She was too gorgeous. Even as she pulled the chapstick from her pocket and slid it across her lips, he was completely mesmerized. Bertl couldn't see what kind it was, but it probably made her lips incredibly soft. It was probably flavored, if he had to guess. Would he be able to tell what it was if she kissed him? The taste would probably linger on his own, a temporary physical manifestation of a memory.  He licked his lips absentmindedly, disappointed he didn't already taste the residue of their non-encounter.  He wondered what shampoo she used.  It was probably some higher end stuff that would make her hair incredibly soft; soft enough to run his fingers through as he pulled her into one of those gentle kisses.  His heart beat harder for a moment. Oh God.

+++

Eren sat across from Mikasa at what felt like the tiniest table this restaurant had to offer. The two had ordered their own lunches but split a rather large appetizer plate and were just waiting for it to get here. Mikasa swirled the ice in her drink, occasionally taking a sip then going back to swirling. Eren watched the glass as she swirled it, slowly growing irritated at the constant clanking of the ice against the glass. "Hey, stop that, would you?" He murmured, to which Mikasa obliged.

"Sorry." She hummed and set her glass on the table. "Next week is the premier of Iron Diamond. I was thinking of getting us tickets for the midnight premiere."

Eren smiled. "Yeah that would be awesome. Should we all pitch for our own tickets?"

Mikasa tilted her head. "Huh?"

"Well if one person buys all three tickets, it's going to get expensive, especially for a midnight premiere. Unless one of us drives and another buys all the snacks."

"Eren. I was thinking it would be just the two of us. Without Armin this time." Mikasa frowned. Eren eyed her for a while, not entirely sure how to reply. He wasn't exactly oblivious and knew why she'd reiterated that it would be only the two of them.

Eventually he averted his gaze for a moment, looking at literally anything else he could. "Ah, ok. That's fine. We haven't hung out just the two of us in a while." He looked back at her and smiled. "It'll be fun. I'll drive?" Mikasa didn't reply; correction, she was about to reply until the food was placed on the table between them.

+++

Reiner shoved all of Bertl's books into the library's return slot. Bertholdt loved studying, sure, but he was awful at returning the books he'd finished, and as a result, the library constantly billed their apartment. Damn, Bertl, how many of these book have to do with your major anyway? Reiner couldn't complain, though. Bertholdt was always had the low-key desire to learn as much as he could, even if it weren't relevant to whatever he was doing at the time. Aside from Armin, Bertl was the most academically inclined person he knew, followed by Annie, Mikasa, and Eren, and then himself. 'Yeah, I found a documentary on the construction of aquifers!' Bertl would say one day. 'Heh, nice.' Reiner would reply. Reiner absentmindedly smiled to himself. Bertholdt's passion was admirable.

As he walked away from the library, his phone chimed, indicating a new text message. A new message from Eren, huh? And as he read the message, he grew worried. 'I need your help. When are you free?'

Perhaps worried was the wrong emotion to be feeling. Perhaps concerned, or maybe curious? Still, it wasn't every day that Eren would text him, and it wasn't every day that he'd text him something so vague. 'Yeah I'm free around 4 today. Did you want to meet someplace? Are you ok?'

'Maybe my apartment. It's nothing bad, just personal. I need advice.'

'Yeah, man. I'll be there.'

Reiner knew where Eren lived, right across the hall from them with Armin. They hardly passed each other during the day as their school schedules were a bit too different. They had hung out quite a bit towards the end of Reiner's high school career; Eren had barely become a Sophomore when Reiner graduated. Eren was always a little younger than most of his graduating class, the only person younger than him was Connie.

He could remember the first thing Eren had said about him. Eren had bore witness to one of Reiner's high school wrestling match wins. Attendance was mandatory for those who were on the Poms team, which Mikasa was, and so Eren and Armin tagged along to support their friend. Reiner was a junior at the time, and Eren was just a freshman. Reiner heard him say it as he sat on the bench waiting for the rest of the wrestlers to take their turn. "Yeah I still think Mikasa could take him out." He had whipped his head around to see who'd said that, and wasn't surprised to see it was one of the freshmen. Eren's eyes locked with Reiner's briefly before he stiffened and stared straight ahead, never making another attempt to look at Reiner the rest of the tournament. What a cocky little boy.

The two had officially met about a week later at one of Annie and Mikasa's Poms practices. Reiner had entered the gym with Bertholdt in tow, and scanned the area for a place to sit while they waited for Annie to finish with practice. Soon, Reiner's eyes landed on that same little freshman from the other day. He was sitting alone, reading a book with a title about which Reiner didn't give much care. He smiled, mentioned to Bertl that this was the boy that said the thing about him that one day, and headed towards him.

As Eren flipped the page in his book, a large shadow loomed over him. "Hey, mind if we sit here with you?" Eren glanced up to see the same tall burly guy from a few days before with an unfamiliar, even taller guy behind him. It took him a moment to respond, but after a second, he managed to splutter out a nervous "Yeah." Reiner sat down beside Eren to his left, and Bertl sat beside Reiner, also on his left.

They didn't speak for the first few minutes, Reiner instead scanning the Poms carefully. Eventually, he leaned in closer to Eren, "So, which one's Mikasa?"

"What?"

"You said Mikasa could take me out. Which one is Mikasa?" Eren gaped at him. Damn, he remembered what I said? Nervously, Eren pointed to her, the black haired one two rows back. "Huh. She doesn't look so tough."

"Neither did Annie." Bertholdt reminded him, to which Reiner had to chuckle. Annie was probably the first girl that was able to knock Reiner on his ass, and more impressively was that Annie hadn't even attacked; she just used Reiner's weight against him. She'd teach him that same move later.

Reiner held his hand out towards Eren with a friendly smile on his face. "I'm Reiner. This is Bertholdt."

Eren took his hand and gave it a firm shake. "I'm Eren. Nice to meet you. Sorry about what I said."

"Don't be! I'm always up for a challenge! Not saying I'd fight a girl, but...well, y'know."

"Ah, yeah." Eren hummed, and turned his attention back to the dancing Poms for a moment before looking back at the duo. "Why are you here? Is your girlfriend one of the Poms?" Reiner suppressed a chuckle and held up his left hand and Bertholdt's fingers laced themselves through Reiner's. A grin spread across his face.

"No."

Bertholdt's gaze, though most of his face aside from his eyes were blocked by Reiner, seemed to pierce Eren's soul. Whether the piercing gaze was malicious or not, Eren didn't know. He stared at their hands for a moment as he processed this and spluttered out several apologies, to which Reiner laughed. Don't worry about it, he would say. It's a common mistake, it happens all the time, blah blah blah. Eren continued to apologize the rest of the week in the form of being overly polite or attempting to buy him food. "It's fine." Reiner would always assure him. Soon, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie merged with Eren's friends group.

Though after meeting them, he definitely would agree; Mikasa could probably take out Reiner. He never did test that theory.


	4. Chapter 4

###  **Chapter Text**

Armin sat in the library, scribbling in his little notebook and scanning the pages of an open textbook. His study of choice; the Byzantine Empire. While it was true he had a knack for learning, history was by far his absolute favorite, and despite his professor asking that he not read ahead, he did so anyway. He thought it ridiculous that educators would discourage learning, even if it was to keep in line with the curriculum. Sitting across from him was Connie, who had his own textbook flipped open, though it was a different subject--Anthropology.

Beside Armin sat Jean, and beside Jean sat Marco. Jean was studying the same thing as Connie, while Marco was studying a completely separate topic. "Hey Jean," Connie mumbled, breaking the silence between them, "what's the deal with these findings all these professors seem to find? Does a sharp rock really deserve to be a tool?"

"Huh?"

"Well these professors in this book keep saying 'Yeah they used tools, look at this rock with a sharp edge.' But how do they know that it's a tool and not just a rock? Really?"

Jean shrugged. "Honestly, Connie, anything is a tool if you try hard enough."

"Exactly! So what makes this rock more likely to be a tool than another sharp rock?"

"I don't know, Connie, I'm reading the same chapter as you are."

"Well, I think it has a lot to do with how the rock can be held in a human hand." Armin piped up. "Anything can be a tool, technically, but that doesn't mean it's practical. You can cut things with a shard of glass, but if you have to hold the glass directly, it's impractical because you'll end up harming yourself. I know ancient humans weren't too advanced in comparison to us now, but they were still smart enough to know what was most effective for their task that produced the least amount of injury to themselves."

"Yeah, that's pretty much spot on, Armin." Annie chimed in, startling Armin. She stood behind him, trying to read the upside down pages of Connie's textbook. "You can also tell whether or not the stone was attached to anything. There would be indents from rope, or holes in the stones where a handle might go, depending on the time frame you're studying. If you have the right mind, you'd be able to tell almost immediately."

Connie smiled. "Hey thanks, Annie!"

"Armin, can I ask a favor of you?" Armin nodded. "I won't be going to class tomorrow. I have...things I need to take care of. Would you be able to send me the math notes?"

"O-oh, yeah, absolutely. How are you doing? You know...?"

"I'll be fine. I promise.  I'll make the Forensics competition on Friday."  She smiled.  She knew they were worried about her, and while she was having a hard time with this day in particular, they had no reason to worry.  Annie wasn't rash and she felt bad for making everyone worry.  Maybe she would take Bertl up on the offer of joining them tomorrow.  Maybe.

+++

A little after four o'clock, Reiner tapped on Eren's apartment door. Hopefully Eren was home. He had said four, but that didn't mean Eren wouldn't get stuck someplace and be late. His school bag was slung haphazardly over his shoulder, and he half debated putting it in his own apartment, until Eren did finally open the door. "Hey Reiner!" Eren greeted him, and invited him inside. "Put your stuff wherever and sit wherever. Do you want something to drink?" The bag was tossed to the floor near the door, and Reiner took a seat on the couch at the far left cushion.

"I'm fine on the drink. How are you? That text got me worried."

Eren took a seat in the couch, sitting on the far right, ensuring at least one couch cushion of room between the two. "Reiner, I just had a couple questions for you. Personal, kind of. Are you ok with that?"

"Yeah. Whassup?"

Eren took a deep breath and stared at the floor. His heart pounded in his chest. Should he just say nevermind and excuse Reiner from the conversation? "How...when you...when you finally...how...?" Reiner eyed Eren as he struggled to form the words he needed, his expression was full of concern. He didn't interrupt him, but instead stayed quiet and focused in hopes that would ease Eren's nerves a little bit. "When you told people that you were gay...how did...how'd you do it?" His eyes never left the spot on the floor to which they were fixated.

Honestly, this took Reiner by surprise. He'd never really talked about his coming out story, and no one really had asked him about it afterwards. "Well, the first person I ever told was Bertholdt. It was scary at first, because I didn't know how he'd take the news. I'd known him since grade school, and that was the first time I felt...I don't know...confused? I felt like throwing up the whole time because I was so nervous." Reiner glanced around the room, only half-looking at the things he and Armin had decorated their apartment with. "It became a lot easier after I said it though, because Bertholdt was really happy. He had said that he was so scared of telling me that he was bi, that he thought he'd just ignore it and pretend he wasn't, at least while he was around me because he didn't know how I'd react."

Eren slowly turned his gaze to Reiner. "Is that when you two got together?"

"Well I mean, we didn't just jump into a relationship straight away. But, yeah, it breached that layer that we would otherwise not have breached. It opened doors that, if I had kept quiet, otherwise would not have opened. I've never regretted it." Reiner offered Eren a small smile, hoping it would comfort him. "But as to how I did, for me it was like ripping off the band aid, and I think it really depends on who you open up to, and whether you feel comfortable doing it. Is there someone in particular you want to tell?"

Eren turned away again. "Well...Mikasa keeps giving me hints that she wants something more. She hasn't flat out told me, but I'm not stupid. She offered to buy us tickets to see Iron Diamond, and wants it to just be us two. It feels like it'll be a date. I don't mind hanging out with her as a friend, but I'm not interested in her that way...but I couldn't bring myself to tell her. I didn't know how."

"Eren. Are you attracted to men?"

"No." He murmured. "But I'm not really attracted to women either. I don't know. There might be something wrong...with me."

Reiner sat silent for a moment. Sure, he had known his fare share of people ranging orientations and genders, and Eren's predicament was no exception. He couldn't understand how Eren felt, but that didn't mean that what he was feeling didn't exist. Eren felt more alone after saying this that he tried to blink away his feelings, but they kept coming back in the form of tears. His heart beat so fast, he was visibly trembling. "You know, Eren, you're not the first person to talk to me about this. I've met a lot of people like you, and I can assure you there's nothing wrong."

Eren shifted.

"Do you want to come out to her?" Reiner asked, to which Eren shrugged. "I won't tell you what choice is right, because it's ultimately up to you, but if it's anything like it was for me, I think you'll be happier once you say so. I think she'll be happier, too, because you'd be honest with yourself; and with her."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely. Eren, like I said before, it's up to you and how you feel most comfortable. Even if you choose not to tell her about your sexuality, at least let her know you're not interested in her that way."

"If I did it that way, how would I explain to her...?"

"You don't have to. You don't owe anyone an explanation for feeling the way you do. That's for you, and you alone, if you choose."

Eren turned back to Reiner and gave him a half smile. "Do you still have to tell people?"

Reiner laughed. "Well, the questions don't really stop, but I did stop telling people on my own accord. After a while, it got arduous. I'd just go places with Bertholdt at my side and let people figure it out on their own. I only mention it when people ask, or if they assume I'm anything other than who I am."

"Were people supportive?"

"I never knew my father, but my mother was always supportive. So was Gabi, Annie, Bertl, and Marcel. Pretty much everyone was. I knew if I kept it to myself, it'd eventually start to feel suffocating. I'd try to fit into boxes I knew I had no business being in. I'd probably try to find a wife. I'd keep lying to myself. I'm just lucky I had the right support group."

"Yeah." Eren's smile grew wider the more they talked. While he himself wasn't like Reiner, it helped him feel like he wasn't alone. "Thanks, Reiner."

"Honestly, Eren. Thank you for telling me. I'm glad you think I can help with this. I hope I did."

"You did."

Reiner placed a hand on Eren's shoulder and stared in square in the eye. "And if anyone gives you shit about it, I'll kick their asses!" That was enough to make Eren laugh. Reiner was a great person. No doubt he'd come to Eren's defense; he'd come to anyone's defense. He couldn't imagine having told anyone other than Reiner first. He was like the big brother of the group; he was a much better brother than...well, the two couldn't compare at all. Reiner was so much better.

+++

Bertholdt walked through the door to their apartment, his expression blank. He hardly noticed the smell of the food Reiner was cooking. He hardly noticed anything at all in these couple moments until Reiner pulled him out of his daze. "Hey." Bertl tossed his bag to the floor and just stood there. Reiner glanced over from the kitchen and noticed Berthold's fidgeting. He had a bad habit of picking at the skin on his fingertips when he was nervous or anxious. As many times as Reiner had tried to break that habit of his, it never did leave. Right now, they were getting pretty torn up, which meant that Bertl was overly troubled today. "Bertl, what's up?"

"Reiner, I have a problem."

"Well I'm putting out fires all over the place today. What's on your mind?"

Bertholdt fidgeted where he stood and contemplated telling his secret to Reiner. Should he? Would it make things weird between the two? It had never really been weird before, at least not on Bertl's part. How would Reiner react? How would this ordeal go down? The more he thought, the more nervous he got; the more fidgety he got, the more he began to sweat, the more skin he picked. Soon, Reiner's hands took Bertl's in an attempt to get him to stop that god-damned picking. Bertl took a slow deep breath. He mustered all energy he could to look into Reiner's eyes. No, he shouldn't say this. He shouldn't. He squeezed the blond's hands, mostly to ground himself, and wasn't surprised when he felt Reiner squeeze back in affirmation.

"What's up, Bertl?"

Bertholdt didn't even have time to think before his mouth formed the words he was afraid to tell himself, let alone Reiner. "I'm in love with Annie."


	5. (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~I noticed some of the formatting may have been off in this chapter. Since this is a reload I might fix it, maybe but I also might not. My apologies!~~ Edit- Fixed the formatting.

_Bertholdt's moans floated around the room, punctuated by small pants and gasps. Reiner's sheets balled up in his fists and his back arched several inches off the mattress. Sweat drips from his forehead and his eyes switch from scrunching shut to trying to find something on the ceiling to fixate. Beside him, his very blond companion rests his head in one hand and makes Bertl a bumbling mess with the other. Reiner's eyes scan Bertl's face as if trying to memorize how he looks when this happens. Every so often, Bertholdt's eyes move from the ceiling to meet Reiner's. Was it just Reiner, or did the green seem to intensify?_

_Bertl doesn't know how he does it, but each time Reiner touches him, he melts into a gross little puddle; and every time he loves every moment of it._

_Reiner can't help it. He needs to...he leans over and presses his lips to Bertholdt's, eager and starving as he slowed the pace of his hand. Bertl lets out another moan, this time muffled by Reiner's mouth. He takes the opportunity and carefully slips his tongue between Bertl's lips, and feels the man below him begin to suck gently; something that always drove Reiner crazy in the best of ways._

_He felt fingers grip his hair and pull him in for a deeper kiss, though to be frank, there wasn't much deeper this kiss could go, but Bertl did it anyway. Reiner responded with picking up speed. The giant below him squirmed and let out another stifled moan, followed by a four letter word, something he never said often. Reiner smirked and let his hand move slowly once more, excruciatingly--agonizingly-- slowly. Bertholdt let out a whine Reiner could only describe as desperate. Bertl's eyes pleaded, please Reiner, pleeaase. His face was red, sweaty, just the way Reiner liked._ My Bertl...

_Bertholdt felt that all too familiar chill in his toes that creeps up through his entire body and pools exactly where it needs. Something was scraping down Reiner's back, doing little damage thanks to the shirt he was wearing. This was always the surefire sign that Bertholdt was reaching his end. Reiner was disappointed in himself that he had kept his shirt on; he really wanted to feel those nails against his skin threatening to leave wet red marks in their wake. They exchanged one last sloppy kiss before Reiner leaned back to watch as Bertl threw his head back into the pillow, mouth wide and eyes staring at literally nothing before rolling slowly back into his skull; his eyelids closed slowly and the most beautiful moan escaped his throat._

_Reiner bit his lip. He always did when Bertl finished. It was just too gorgeous a sight to not react even in the smallest of ways such as biting one's own lip. His hand slowed to a stop and traced up Bertl's still clothed stomach. He trembled beneath Reiner's hand. His heart pounded in his chest, and Reiner could feel it. "You're so beautiful when you do that." Reiner hummed and intertwined their fingers together._

_Bertl turned his head to face him. He was still breathless, sweaty, red, and gorgeous. "When I do what?"_

_"When you come."_

_Bertholdt smirked. "Don't say that word. It's weird."_

_Reiner chuckled. "Fine, you look beautiful when you ejaculate."_

_"Heh, no, now it sounds too textbook-y."_

_"God damn, I just love it when you blow your load."_

_"Stop." Bertl laughed hard and playfully pushed Reiner away. "I love you."_

_Reiner smiled and pulled Bertl to him, resting his head on his chest. He heard his heart beating hard in that beautiful chest. "I love you too." He could stay this way forever, he thought. The world could crumble and die around them and he's be fine just laying here with his Bertholdt beneath him. As long as he could hear that heartbeat, he'd be just fine. As long as he could still smell that scent that was only Bertl's; as long as he could hold the frame that was only Bertl's._

_Reiner's phone rang loudly, jolting both of them from their post-rendezvous high. Son of a bitch, who in the hell...? He reached a long arm out to grab the phone, when Bertl whined a weak, "noooo" and swatted the phone from Reiner's hand. It landed with a thunk on the ground. Reiner huffed and reached over Bertl, intentionally grazing his arm over his still very sensitive member in his own act of 'revenge.' Bertholdt let out a squeak, but it definitely wasn't out of pain._

_"Hey, Marcel, what's up?" Reiner asked into the receiver._

_There was a long moment of silence on the other end where he thought the call might have dropped, until he heard Marcel's voice._ "Dude, are you fucking Bert right now?"

_"What?"_

"I can hear him breathing heavy. That shit's gross, man, at least warn me when you pick up the phone."

_Reiner grinned, peering up at Bertholdt. "Oh yeah, you know I can't resist this guy. I mean, right now he's totally pounding my ass. Yeah, Bertl baby, harder." Bertl went wide eyed and motioned him to stop, which only spurred him on more. "Oh yeah just like that, babe, yes. Ooh, yeah right there!"_

_Marcel laughed._ "Fuckin' a, dude. I get it, sorry, next time, give me a schedule so I know when to call."

_"Fine. It's only a guideline, though, no guarantees we won't be doing something though. I mean, I can hardly keep my hand off his..."_

"Ok, shhh sh sh shhhhut up, I have something to tell you! So y'know how you've always kept asking to buy my old motorcycle?"

_Reiner's face lit up. "Y-yeah?"_

"Well how do you feel about a brand new one, straight from the lot?"

_"How the hell...?"_

"WELL! When I went to get it fixed up for you, they accidentally messed up the whole engine. Parts were missing, a piece blew up, it was a mess and it ended up having to be scrapped. BUT they offered to reimburse me the entire thing, brand new. So now I have extra cash, I was gonna go to the lot today and pick one out. If you're free, you can come and pick it out yourself."

_Bertl couldn't hear what Marcel was talking about, but Reiner's face was beaming; it must have been something great. "Marcel, you're a god sent from heaven, did you know that?"_

"I know. Meet me at my place in like an hour, ok?"

_"Y-yeah absolutely!" He hung up the phone and smiled at Bertl. Goodness, he looked like a child on Christmas morning that got everything he could have wanted from Santa. He was far too excited to say why he was so happy, but it made Bertholdt happy anyway; happy enough to pull happy ol' Reiner close and plant tiny kisses all over his happy little face._

+++

Reiner's hands trembled as he tried to register those words, a cold numbness shooting up through his body. 'I'm in _love_ with Annie.'

'I'm in love with _Annie._ '

'I'm in love _with_ Annie.'

Reiner's face hardly changed.  Bertl had no idea what he was thinking in this moment, but the grip on his hands was getting tighter.  Reiner couldn't let go of Bertholdt's hands. He couldn't. As Bertl had done before, he was using them to ground himself. "You're in love with Annie." He repeated. "You're..." Bertholdt pulled his hands away. Now what would Reiner use to keep himself calm? "Well, I mean...you can't go for it." He heard himself say. Wait, what? These weren't his words. Why did he say that?

"I know I can't." Bertl murmured. "I know, tomorrow is Marcel's death day. If I go for it, I'm an inconsiderate asshole. If I wait until after, then I'm an inconsiderate asshole but a few days later."

_No that's not what I meant..._ "Yeah, I mean...didn't you set them up in the first place anyways?" _Stop..._

Bertl averted his gaze. "Yeah, but I wasn't attracted to her at the time."

"You can't date her." He reiterated. _Fucking stop saying that._ "You're mi--you're going to upset her." _Please stop talking._

"I know. I don't know what to do. Do I wait for this to pass?"

_If you're in love, it won't pass..._ "Absolutely."

"You're probably right. It could be a phase. Kind of like..." Bertholdt trailed off.

A pain ripped through Reiner's chest. _A phase, like **us**?_ "I mean. I guess don't just wait it out. Test the waters."

Bertholdt looked back at him, more confused than when he'd walked through the door. "You just told me to let it pass."

_Please..._ "Yeah. Well, I think you should do what you want." _No..._ "But just be mindful of what you're doing. If you try something too soon it could hurt her." It was almost an out-of-body experience for Reiner. Here he was, yelling at himself from the sidelines as he watched himself make absolutely no sense when his friend, his Bertl, struggling with this ordeal.

Bertholdt thought for a moment, leaving Reiner with his thoughts that, quite frankly, were starting to scare him. _Please don't go for it. **I want him to be happy.** He can't see her. **If he's happy with her, he should try.** No, he's mine. I love him. _ Yes, I love him and want him to be happy. _He's mine. **He should be happy.**_

A soft sigh escaped Bertholdt's lips. He began to fidget again, picking enough to cause minute bleeding. "You're probably right. I don't want to upset her. I don't know what to do. I-I shouldn't have told you, I'm sorry."

Reiner glanced down for a moment, barely an inking of a second, and took Bertholdt's hands in his; stop that fucking picking. _No, thank you for telling me. I'm being the idiot, not you._ "Bertl, if you really want to pursue her, then go for it. I'll support you in whatever you choose to do." _And I'll pick up the pieces if things don't work out._ "You're my best friend. You deserve to be happy, and if she makes you happy, then go for it. She'd be lucky to have you. You're the best person I know, and Annie should see that, too." Each word Reiner spoke seemed to cut himself deep, but he couldn't stop himself from that. Bertl doesn't need Reiner to be a lover, he needs a friend.

Long arms snaked around his neck as Bertholdt pulled him into a hug. As if second nature, Reiner reciprocated with a hug of his own and lightly nuzzled Bertholdt's neck, inhaling the scent that was only Bertholdt, the scent that he so deeply missed it physically pained him. His grip on Bertholdt was tight, too tight, he hoped that Bertl couldn't feel his desperation; no, he wanted Bertl to feel his desperation, his heartache. His vision blurred, but he refused to shed that tear. He didn't have that right.

_Please don't let go, Bertl._

"Thank you, Reiner.  Thank you so much."


	6. Chapter 6

**WEDNESDAY 15 MAR**

"Hey Annie, I'm leaving." Ymir yelled from the living room. Annie sat in her own room still curled up in her blankets. "If you need anything, call Krista's cell."

"I left some cookies on the counter for you, Annie!" Krista yelled.

Annie smiled. "Thank you."

Her professors knew already she wouldn't be coming in today. She didn't tell them why. It wasn't their business. Frankly, this was no one's business but everyone seemed to know anyway, even the people she'd met after the incident. How the hell did they know? Why did they know? Why did they care? She curled into her very old Stargate blanket, ready to sleep the bad thoughts and day out of memory. It was his of course; the blanket. He had left it at her home a long time ago and never made any attempt to take it back. 'Yeah, just keep it. You like Stargate, right? Keep it.' Annie inhaled deeply. His scent was gone. She washed it numerous times so the only smell it had was detergent but it still comforted her.

After a while, Annie wasn't as comfortable as she had hoped to be. The sheets seemed to be scratchier than normal. The air in this room felt stale and stuffy. It was too warm. This room, this blanket, this air was too too warm. She had to get up and move, even if it was to get some of Krista's dotation cookies. Was there a movie she wanted to see? Was it playing today?

Flipping that blanket off of her was the easiest part of today, and as she stuffed a cookie in her mouth, she debated just going to class despite being about two hours late...but if she arrived two hours late then she'd be two hours behind; she should just wait for Armin's notes and learn at her own pace. Maybe she would check those movie times after all.

She reached for her phone, as she secretly loved calling movie time hotlines, and noticed she had received a new message from Bertholdt.

'Offer is still open if you want to hang out with us tonight. We get back around 4.'

Annie replied, 'I'll think about it. What's the plan?'

'Reiner's making burgers. We're going to watch Run and Cry and maybe the first Iron Diamond movie if we have time, since the new one's coming out soon.'

'I'll keep you posted.'

'Sure thing.'

She sighed and tossed her phone on the couch as she shoved another cookie in her face. Bertholdt was so nice. Annie appreciated his concern, and never really held it against him. Perhaps a visit with a couple of great friends would do Annie some good.

She did want to be alone, but sometimes the loneliness was mentally debilitating. At times, even Ymir would ask Annie to hang out to prevent her from being by herself all the time; which was surprising since the two were really only acquaintances at best. Ymir was nice, in her own way, Annie had to admit. Krista--the nicest human being on the planet, Annie thought--seems very smitten with her, so she must not have been too bad. Perhaps she was one of those people who hid her issues with sarcastic comments and dry humor. Annie liked her dry humor.

Perhaps she and Ymir really were friends. Kind of.

+++

The roar of the engine shook the ground beneath it. The exhaust created a smog that was suffocating, and the screech of the tires against the asphalt as the brakes attempt to slow the bike tore at Reiner's ears. Bits and pieces of memories flashed through his head like lightning; eyes peering up at him, wide and afraid. The hand he held squeezed hard, begging for help. Flashing lights. Heavy rain. Blood.

But those eyes...

He watched wide eyed and frozen as the motorcycle on the street successfully stopped just barely before hitting the car in front of it.

Those eyes.

Reiner's chest heaved, expecting the inevitable crunch that never came. It never came. It never came. The crunch...a few blinks of his eyes reminded him that this didn't end the same. The motorcycle stopped, remember? It stopped right before that crunch. His entire body shook, so full of adrenaline Reiner was sure his heart would stop and he was greeted by reality with a cold sweat and numbness. He was so happy. He was so scared. He was angry. He was so angry, he couldn't stop himself from screaming at the rider to watch where the fuck he was going, motherfucking idiot biker! Said idiot biker responded with some choice swears of his own and a middle finger before riding off someplace.

Those eyes.

He inhaled sharply, shakily, and regained his thoughts. Where was he headed?

Those eyes.

Yeah, he was heading to class. Which class? Today was Wednesday? So, math? Or was it engineering right now? Fuck.  **FUCK.** Stop shaking. Stop...He had to lean against a nearby tree to steady himself. His heart was beating so damn fast, son of a bitch.

What class was happening right now? It was engineering right now. He just got out of lunch, and was headed across campus to the Engineering building. Ok, now he could focus. Deep breath. He was on his way to the engineering building. Jean would be there, and maybe Daz? They had an exam today. Slow breath. That's right. Engineering. Calm down. Reiner swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked the moisture from his eyes and walked toward the building, not particularly caring if he was going to be late.

Engineering...

+++

He had known she wouldn't show up today. She never showed up to class on March 15th. Not for the past three years, anyways, but he still felt the need to glance over at her desk occasionally. Perhaps it was concern, or maybe just habit. Bertholdt's notes were a lot less messy than they had been before, which was a welcomed change to his already strange school life. Now, the projector had various bad clip art along with its slides on mob mentality, the topic of human behavior in groups that influence social structure and culture. This is why he loved this class, he could study the mentality of society as a whole this way; or maybe not. Maybe he just felt like he could, but it still made him feel like he could be one step ahead of the rest even if it was just on theory.

Marcel actually turned him on to this field of study purely by accident. Needing to get a couple extra credits, they had decided to take a class at random. They had taken basic classes in middle school, and while middle school never got in depth such as this, it was still a fun class to take. He wished he could have continued his studies with Marcel, though Marcel had ended up going to a private high school instead while Bertholdt went to public school.

That wasn't a bad thing. They constantly swapped notes, compared curriculums, and ended up getting more invested as they taught each other what their teachers hadn't gotten into yet. This proved benificial when Bertholdt's teacher had sprung a pop quiz on the class worth 60 percent of the final grade.

That was also around the same time he had suggested that Marcel and Annie go to Sophomore homecoming together, as Marcel had mentioned that he was having a hard time finding a date. They had hit it off very well, and the fact that they had known each other already made the transition a lot easier. The fact that the two stayed together for three years was incredible, and they probably could have stayed together even longer, if...

Let's not think about that...

Oh, his pocket vibrated. Maybe that was Annie getting back to him about tonight. He'd mentioned that Reiner was cooking and they'd be watching old movies.

'I'll keep you posted.'

Oh. 'Sure thing.'

Now to text Reiner... 'Annie said she might come over. Do we have enough burgers or should I pick some up?'

'I can grab some on the way home. Do you need anything else?'

'No that should be good. Thanks Reiner! When's your engineering exam?'

'Today. I'm at lunch right now, but Engineering is next. Sucks that it's all the way across campus. I hate being rushed to an exam.'

'Yeah. But you got this.'

'Wish me luck : D '

'lol Good luck!'

Bertholdt put his phone back in his pocket and quickly scribbled the notes before the slide changed. Ah, man, now they were haphazard again. It relieved Bertl, though, that Reiner seemed to be in a good mood right now. He could lie to the others, Eren, Mikasa, Sasha, Armin, about being able to brush it off.  It was in the past and what's the point of dwelling on things that can't be changed, blah blah blah; but he struggled with the day as well. The first year Marcel was gone, Bertholdt remembered, Reiner fell into a hole that he struggled for far too long to escape. The following year--last year--was a little better, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't as good as this third year where Reiner seemed to finally feel better.

Bertholdt prayed that he could stay in that positive mindset. He couldn't imagine having to watch Reiner struggle with himself; not again.  He prayed that nothing would remind Reiner of what he saw.


	7. (NSFW)

'I'm on my way home. I snagged the movies from Connie so we're all set.' Bertholdt typed out on his phone a message to Reiner. He stepped outside, free from the grasp of those cramped campus walls. He was a bit disappointed that Annie had yet to reply to his offer as she'd said she would. Well, either way, he'd have a good time tonight hanging out with Reiner and watching a couple of bad movies. Secretly, he loved these movies; Run and Cry being a horror romcom, and Iron Diamond which was an antihero superhero movie. They weren't fantastic in the least, not in normal terms. They were so cheesy and cliche they were almost great.

He walked down the street towards the apartment. It had been so sunny this morning to the point of being almost unbearably hot, but now it was clouded over and grey, and thunder rolled within the clouds. Better get home soon...

A car rolled to a stop beside Bertl and rolled down it's passenger window. "Hey, Bertholdt, do you need a ride?" Jean called from the driver seat. His apartment wasn't too far, but he didn't want to risk any rainfall, especially handling some of Connie'd DVDs. He accepted the ride and slipped into the front passenger seat.

"Thanks, Jean." Bertholdt smiled. The car pulled back onto the lane and headed down the block towards University Housing.

"Yeah no problem. I was going to offer Reiner a ride too but he was talking to Mr Zacharius after class so I left."

"Oh. He should be fine though, it's not that far."

"Just the rain I'm worried about. It kind of came in out of nowhere. It'll probably dump soon."

Bertholdt fixated his eyes on the road ahead. "True."

There was silence between the two for a few moments before it was broken again by Jean. "Hey can I ask your opinion?" Bertl nodded. "I really want to ask Mikasa to the midnight premiere of Iron Diamond. But I don't really know if she's already got plans to see it with someone else. Should I just go for it?"

"W-well I don't think I'm the best person to ask about dating advice. I don't even have the courage to tell someone I like them. I wouldn't know what to do in your situation either. Reiner might have a better opinion than me."

As they pulled into the apartment's parking lot, Jean peered at him from the corner of his eye. "You sell yourself too short."

"I know." He mumbled as he exited the car. Jean followed suit and the two men bid each other goodbye and went their separate ways.

Once Bertl reached his apartment, he checked his phone once more, noting that Reiner had not texted back yet. It was barely four, so that was understandable if he was staying a bit later like Jean had assumed. Maybe Bertl would get some light cleaning done. Honestly, that was something the both of them dropped the ball on recently, and if Annie was coming over, he didn't want her to see their sloppiness; if she was even coming over in the first place. Did that matter? This place was a sty!

The only thing Bertholdt didn't have to do was wash the dishes, and that was only because Reiner had loaded teh dishwasher last night, thank goodness. But he was begrudgingly turning his light housekeeping into in depth break-out-the-chemicals-and-rubber-gloves cleaning that he really didn't want to do. It was worth it though, about an hour after he finished he was able to fall flat on the couch, exhausted but comfortable.

Bertl reached for his phone to check the time; 5:08 pm. Where the hell was Reiner? Must have been picking up extra burgers at the store like they'd agreed. Just to cover all bases, Bertl sent him another text, 'I'm home. Cleaned the house. Let me know when you're on your way.'

He noticed that Annie hadn't gotten back to him either. She probably wouldn't be coming. Her apartment wasn't too far away so if she was, she'd probably be here by now. Oh well, at least they'd extended the offer.

Bertl wondered what she was doing right now. She was probably either watching movies of her own, or napping. Most likely napping. How did she look when she slept? What it one of those serene peaceful sleeps? Or maybe one of those where her head's buried in her arms to avoid the sunlight? Was she more likely to sleep in pajama pants or a nightgown?

Maybe neither?

Maybe she slept just in her undergarments...

Maybe even less than that.

What might she look like then, in that vulnerable state? Is it possible she'd slept like that around Marcel? Would she sleep like that around Bertholdt, perhaps? Probably not, but that image really never left Bertholtd's mind. He'd wondered how it might feel to be next to her like that, as she lays on her side, back turned from him; the blanket  covering nothing but her feet and the rest of her body completely out in the open. He wondered about her figure as she lay there, a nice steady curve from her torso to her waist, and her hips.

Bertholdt glanced around his apartment before setting his eyes on the clock. 5:10 pm. Reiner still hasn't replied, and Annie hasn't replied. He was safe, for now, with his thoughts--impure thoughts--about his friend. His hand slowly moved towards the front of his pants.

What would Bertl do then, if he were next to Annie? He'd... he'd stroke her arm gently with the back of his hand hoping not to wake her. Her back would still be turned to him probably, and maybe he'd wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him? Her skin was soft against his, and much much lighter in comparison to his own. Of course, she'd shift a bit, which was natural for someone who was being cuddled.

What if Annie woke up? Would she turn to face him, with her beautiful blue eyes? She'd still be groggy and sleepy. She'd smile at him, a sight he wasn't particularly used to. He'd smile back, and then elicit a small surprised squeak when she'd lean in to kiss him. Due to the angle, she'd probably have turned her whole body to him.

Bertholdt began to stroke the front of his jeans. Annie would wrap her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He could swear that nothing could have tasted as sweet as her right now, and his cock twitched the longer their tongues were intertwined. The only time he would break the kiss was so that he could shift so that he would be hovering over her.

She gazed up at him, eyes lidded and her cheeks red and warm. His eyes wandered lower, taking in the sight of her chest. Her collar bone, he skin, her breasts. Her chest moved ever so slightly with each breath she took in; the image was so beautiful, so fucking sexy. Bertholdt's fingers slipped themselves beneath the waistlines of his jeans and boxers and made themselves at home as they wrapped around his member. A rogue moan escaped his lips.

Bertl would dip down and plant small kisses to start along her collar bone and her neck. Her skin was so soft against his lips, it drove him insane, and soon small kisses wouldn't suffice. He trailed his tongue across the same path his kisses were planted, stopping every so often to give Annie a few little love nibbles. Her breathing hitched in her throat and it tickled Bertl's ear, sending a shock straight down to whee he needed it most.

Alright, these pants were far too constricting. He needed to unbutton them and let himself free, which is exactly what he did. No, he didn't take them all the way off, this was a communal couch after all, but he unzipped and freed his member from the prison that was clothing. His fingers resumed their place wrapped around himself and continued moving.

'Bertholdt...' She'd moan, his tongue going lower to tease one of her nipples, his thumb and forefinger gently rubbing and pinching the other. Her legs would wrap around his waist, bringing their bodies closer together in a way that caused another shiver to go through him. 'Bertholdt, touch me.'

Bertholdt leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes, letting out a quavering breath.

He would, too. The fingers that were previously up at her breast traveled down slowly, memorizing the curvature of her body. They danced along her stomach, going lower to dance again along her inner thigh. Annie's noises were becoming more frequent, stifled only by Bertholdt's mouth against hers. She'd nibble at his bottom lip. He'd reciprocate by sliding his fingers against her sensitivity; he was far too modest to call it what it was--her clitoris.

She cried out softly, and her breathing increased; as did his hand along her core and his hand along his own.

His breaths began to get ragged and loud. He hadn't realized how close he was already, but it didn't matter. He didn't have enough time to think about how his fantasy was just starting to get to the good part before his heat exploded through him fast enough to catch him off guard. Bertholdt's cry filled the room, loud and shaky; and loud. Definitely loud. He hoped there was no one in the hallway. They probably would have heard him if there were.

Bertholdt sat there for a long while, catching his breath and processing what the hell just happened. He glanced down at the mess he had accidentally made all over himself. Damnit, this was my favorite shirt! Whatever, it could be washed.

Or all evidence could be thrown away.

What would Reiner think if he walked in on this? It's not like Reiner never saw Bertl naked before, but that was beside the point because not only was Bertl doing such inappropriate things, he was doing these inappropriate things while thinking of his friend in the _middle of the living room._ He shoved the guilt and disgust with himself down into the depths of his soul and shoved his dick back in his pants, and headed towards his room to take off the gross shirt. Yeah, no point in keeping this shirt. What a shame.

Bertl pulled the shirt over his head and balled it up, tossing it in a grocery bag before tossing it in the trash.

He heard a knock at his door, and he headed over quickly. Reiner probably needed help with groceries. He opened the door to see a blond.

Not a tall, burly blond with grocery bags, but a smaller, feminine blonde wrapped in a hoodie and a bun in her hair.

"Annie!  H-hi."


	8. Chapter 8

_The locker room was full of buzz after Reiner's final match as a high school senior. He'd won, as was expected. He was one of the top wrestlers in his school, and had won the team their seasonal victory. Bertholdt was right behind him, not because of his overall strength, but mainly because of how tall he was; it was harder for the shorter guys to take him down. He'd wait until the opponent got tired and pinned him that way, thus earning him the nickname 'Colossus', which he begrudgingly accepted._

_Reiner had no nickname, but he didn't need one. He was already revered by his team as the best, and the one that allowed them to win all four seasons. "Great game, Braun!" They would cheer. "Way to kick Marley Academy's ass!" One boy cheered, a young freshman by the name of Marcus who had often come to Reiner for tips._

_"We'll miss you next year! Kick ass in college!" Another one, Franklin couldn't help but bring Reiner and Bertholdt into a couple of large tight hugs._

_Reiner teared up a little bit. He would miss his team. Reiner wouldn't say that he bragged about his sexuality, but somehow word got around that he was gay and Bertl was bi. He was extremely surprised to hear that his wrestling team was incredibly supportive of this. Not once did any of them make Reiner or Bertl feel uncomfortable, nor did anyone feel uncomfortable around them._

_"Hey man you got my number right? Text me bro, we'll hang out!"_

_It was a bittersweet feeling to be leaving them, because he knew that not everyone would feel the same way about him as they had._

_As Reiner and Bertholdt left the locker room for the last time, they saw Annie and Marcel run up to them, Porco trailing not far behind. "MY BOYS!" Marcel shouted and threw his arms around them. "MY BIG STRONG BOYS KICKIN' ASS, TAKIN' NAMES! How does it feel to be the champions for the last time?"_

_Bertholdt chuckled. "Hah, well, it's nice. I hate to leave the team though."_

_"We're going to take you two out to celebrate your victory." Annie smiled._

_"There's this new kickass sub place by Annie's house." Marcel continued. "I thought we all could try it together."_

_"All five of us?" Reiner questioned. "Are you joining us too, Galliard?"_

_"No." Porco stated flatly, barely giving Reiner a glance before he turned to his brother. "Marcel, give me your keys. I'm sick of being around these M.A. assholes."_

_To help him with college scholarships, Marcel had attended a private school called Marley Academy, which was notorious for being grossly conservative. Marcel did fine there being a straight man and never failed to defend those that 'fell out of conservative construct'; but Porco refused to attend school there for that reason, and instead attended Eldia High as Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie had attended._

_Marcel dug through his pocket and held out his car keys. "Not all of them are assholes." Porco didn't reply, instead taking the keys with a glare aimed at his brother and heading home. Marcel didn't offer much reaction to Porco's behavior. Neither did anyone else. They were used to it. Instead, they headed out to grab their much deserved sandwiches._

+++

Face to face with those cold, icy blue eyes seemed to have just that effect on Bertholdt.  Words struggled to form in his mind as an appropriate sentence to the situation.  Annie hadn't known, right?  She couldn't have.  Right?  It was extremely hard to discern from her expression, as her face hardly ever changed.

"H-how long have you been standing out there?" Bertholdt asked, gripping the doorknob tightly as if it would be able to help him in some way.

"Just a few seconds." She raised an eyebrow. "Are you ok? What have you been doing?"

Bertholdt was now hyper aware of how shirtless he was, and so was Annie, judging by the look on her face. "C-cleaning!" He stammered, his volume a bit louder than it needed to be. "Come in!"

Annie thought about asking if he and Reiner had...taken care of each other and that's why he was shirtless and sweaty; but it was best not to open that can of worms. Instead, she walked in quietly and set her things on the coffee table. Bertholdt shut the door behind her and hurried to put another shirt back on. Annie glanced around. This place hadn't changed in the three years they'd lived here. "Is Reiner here?" She asked.

"No, he's grabbing burgers from the store." Bertl called from his room. "Do you want something to drink?"

"What do you have?" She inquired and sat down.

"We have water, juice, some beer, tea, soda..." He reappeared and headed into the kitchen to rummage through his refridgerator.

"I'll take some tea." She replied. "Porco called me today."

He poured some of the tea into a glass and handed to to her. "What did he want?" Bertl sat beside her on the couch, his own glass of tea in tow. Annie took a sip of the tea before responding.

"He was just checking in. He calls every year and we talked for a while about Marcel. About life." Annie's eyes were fixated on her glass and her expression barely changed at all, but Bertholdt studied her face. It was always hard for him to read her, considering that she hadn't openly expressed happiness in a while. That wasn't to says he was never happy, but she smiled a lot less since... "He wants to meet up with me next week."

Bertl glanced down to his own glass. "Oh?"

"He said that he had something to tell me in person, something he had figured out while learning to cope. I had mentioned that I was struggling letting go."

"I didn't know you were struggling with that..."

Annie shrugged. "It's not bad. I have certain days that are harder than others. Like today. His birthday. My birthday. Porco's birthday."

"Why Porco's birthday?"

"It's...a personal reason, between Marcel and myself." She murmured. Bertholdt knew what she meant, and tried pushing the inevitable image of her and Marcel writhing together out of his mind.

"Right." He took another sip of his tea and caught a glance at the clock, reading 5:41 pm. Honestly, it was getting late, and he was hungry. "I'll, uh, make the burgers we do have. Reiner can cook his own when he gets here." He stood and headed towards the kitchen. Luckily it was a straight shot from the kitchen to living room so he was able to still peek at her from the corner of his eye as he prepped the pan and the oh-so-high-quality frozen patties straight from the box.

"So, uh, is Porco still single?"

"Yes. We talked about that too. He says that there's no point in pursuing relationships in his town. He said no one there was worth his time, and you know how much he hates to waste his time."

Bertl smirked. "He's always been like that."

Annie stretched and stood, walking over to the kitchen to avoid having to yell across the house. "He asked about you, and Reiner. He asked how you two were doing about this. I told him you were...fine."

"Fine." Bertl repeated under his breath, quiet enough that Annie wouldn't hear.

"He was especially interested in asking how Reiner was doing, since they haven't spoken since."

"Strange." Bertholdt leaned against the counter after tossing both frozen patties on the pan with a satisfying hiss. "He never liked Reiner much to begin with anyway." Annie agreed. Porco and Reiner never got along. Why they never got along was a mystery to everyone involved. Marcel hadn't even known. While most speculated it was an age gap that didn't work well while they were teenagers--when Reiner had turned eighteen, Porco was still a fifteen year old full of attitude and angst--no one truly knew what Porco's problem with Reiner truly was. Maybe Porco didn't even know, but kept up the charade so long it felt natural.

There was silence between the two that lasted for what might have been an uncomfortable amount of time, but for these two who were both fairly quiet anyway, it was fine. It was still strange to Bertholdt having Annie here, by themselves, after he had just had a shameful masturbation session about her. Still, a short-lived glance downward suggested he hadn't been exaggerating proportions.

Annie crossed her arms and Bertholdt, without knowing if she had seen him glancing or not, turned his attention to the burgers only. "Regardless," Annie murmured, "it was nice to hear he still thought of you two."

"Yeah.  It's nice to hear."  Bertl braved another peek her direction, trying hard not to aim his gaze toward her chest.  "But...seriously, Annie.  Thank you."  He smiled, it was small, but sincere.  "Thank you for coming."

"You're welcome."

Annie and his eyes locked for a moment, and Bertl's heart skipped a beat, before he turned his attention back to the pan.

"Bertholdt."

"Y-yeah?"

"Did you want me to start the movie now?"

Bertl glanced at the time, noticing that it was 6pm. Reiner still wasn't back. He hadn't responded. Where the hell was he? What was he doing? It was unlike Reiner to not respond to anyone, let alone Bertholdt of all people. The store was on the way home. If Reiner was coming, he'd be here by now, even with a few detours along the way. "Yeah, go ahead. Let me just call Reiner real quick."


	9. Chapter 9

_"Eh, maybe I will apply to YFU." Bertholdt mumbled. He stared down at his sandwich, only a few bites taken out of it. Reiner and Annie both were accepted to Ymir-Fritz University right away and Marcel still had some scholarship forms to fill out before applying, but Bertl? He wasn't sure there was anything there that would be any good for him. He could go for Sociology. He liked that, but that was about it. He never thought about what he wanted to do with his life, and if he couldn't, the scholarship would be wasted. "I probably won't sign up for wrestling though."_

_Reiner was disappointed, apparent by his quick change in expression. "Aw, why?"_

_"It was fun in high school. but I don't think I'd want to do it forever. I'm not really strong. I don't think it'd be fun considering some of the guys there are in it for careers. I'd get destroyed. It might mess with my studies, too."_

_"Hey, Marcie!" The four were startled by a loud intruding voice. Marcel turned toward the voice, and much to his dismay it was one of his classmates. He was also part of M.A.'s wrestling team._

_Marcel forced a smile, as much as it pained him to do so. "'Sup, Lance?" **Don't call me Marcie.**_

_"Hey hey, Marcie, what are ya doing in this part?" The boy, Lance, asked as he gave him a playful nudge. Reiner recognized him. He'd wrestled and won against this M.A. dude last week, propelling E.H. into the finals. Apparently, this boy recognized Reiner because as he caught him from the corner of his eye, his smile faded. "Oh, you're friends with this dude, huh? Hey, you."_

_Reiner blinked. "Yeah?"_

_"Hey. Y'think you can keep your dirty secret from us, huh?"_

_"What?"_

_"Yeah, man, word got around that you're into dudes." Reiner's brow furrowed. "Is that why you joined wrestling? To feel all the dicks you want?"_

_"Lance, step off." Marcel grumbled, his expression darkening. Lance payed no attention._

_Despite the toxicity in Lance's words, Reiner didn't reply, mainly because he didn't want to cause a scene. This douche wasn't worth his time. Apparently, though, it was worth Lance's time. Lance stepped closer to him, poking his shoulder all the while. "Is that why you hang out with Marcie? To get close to his faggot brother?"_

_"Hey!" Marcel growled, a dark warning tinging the word. He attempted to stand and defend his brother, but Annie kept him still. It wasn't worth Marcel's time. Lance was an asshole, and not worth the trouble._

_Lance continued his poking. It was obvious to Reiner that he was trying to provoke him. It wasn't obvious to Lance that Reiner wasn't easily provoked. "Hey, we wrestled last week! Is that what you were tryin' to do? Were you tryin' to grab my dick?"_

_"Absolutely." Reiner replied, deadpan and quiet. Quiet enough to grab Bertl's concern. "I had no other motives to joining the team other than grinding against guys. You know what, when I was out on the mat with you, I tried to feel you up. I tried to grab, you know? But the strangest thing was, when I reached down there I couldn't...heh, heh, I couldn't feel anything. It was like you didn't have anything down there. What a disappointment."_

_Annie's expression hardly changed, but eyed both boys carefully. Marcel, naturally, started chuckling quietly under his breath. Bertholdt stared wide eyed at Reiner, silent, sweating and nervous. **What the hell?** He thought. **What are you doing...?**_

_The comeback took Lance by surprise and it took a few seconds for him to start sputtering out, "H-hey what the fuck did you say, asshole?" Not that Reiner expected anything different, but Lance balled his hand into a fist and pulled back. Reiner was prepared to take the hit, but the entire punch was interrupted by the bottom of Annie's foot colliding with Lance's arm, knocking him over onto the ground._

_Everyone gaped at Annie. Even Marcel, who had seen her rev up was surprised she actually went through with the kick. Lance stared up at her from the ground as he tried supressing the tears that were telling up. "W-what the fuck? Whatever.." He struggled to his feet. "Fuckin' faggot assholes..." Lance brushed himself off and stormed away, leaving the four of them silent and confused._

_After a moment, Reiner averted his gaze. "Thanks, Annie." Annie shrugged, her way of accepting the thanks. The rest of their lunch was spent mostly quiet, a bit of small talk thrown into the mix and some worried murmurs from Bertholdt._

+++

The bar seemed to spin around him, but that didn't stop Reiner from pouring more alcohol down his throat. The burn fo the alcohol was nonexistent in Reiner's already intoxicated body, so it was like drinking water to him; sure as hell didn't taste like water though. What did he order anyway? He couldn't remember. It tasted like...orange juice. Was there vodka in it as well? Or was it champagne? It wasn't bubbly or in a champagne glass. It was probably vodka. How many of these did he have? Far too many, probably; enough for him to forget what he was drinking.

His phone sat on the bartop. He heard the vibration. He saw the caller ID. He opted to leave it ringing, let it go to voicemail. All of the texts Bertholdt had sent were read. He didn't reply to any of them, but he read them. He always read them.

Sasha sat on his left and watched him warily from the corner of her eye. Connie, who was on his other side, watched too. "H-hey, Reiner, are you ok?" He asked, placing his hand on Reiner's shoulder.

Reiner turned towards him. "W-whydya ask?"

"You're drinking those kind of fast." Connie's concern amused Reiner. Of course he was ok. Sure he was drinking these fast--how many had he drank now?--but that was no reason to be worried. He was fine. Reiner was fine. Just fine. Nothing to worry about. Just...fine.

"Yeah I'm good. Just wanna dri-drink more is all." He peered down at his empty glass. "I'm real thirsty."

"Maybe you should drink water." Sasha chimed in. "We've only been here an hour. Y'still got to get home at some point right?"

The blond sighed at the mention of water. No, no don't even offer me that shit. Water wouldn't help. The only reason he agreed to coming out to the bar was so that he could forget everything for a while. Water wouldn't help Reiner forget. Water won't help me hide the hatred I feel for myself.

Sasha and Connie gaped at him. It caught Reiner off guard, and to be honest, it made him start feeling anxious. Maybe even a little bit nauseous. "Wh-why are you starin' at me?"

Connie's grip on Reiner's shoulder tightened. His eyes fixated on Reiner's, full of worry. "Reiner...do you...really feel like that?"

He squinted, confused as to why Connie would ask something so...then a chill ran through him. Did I say it out loud? Reiner's head spun more than it had before. No, please, don't look at me like that. Don't look at me with all that pity, like he did. Don't remind me. Don't remind me of Bertl...

Reiner pushed the bar stool away from the bartop and he stumbled off of it, making a bee-line straight for the door, grabbing his phone in the process. It kept vibrating. How many missed calls did he have at this point?

Sasha tossed a bundle of cash on the bartop, hoping it was enough to cover the bill as she and Connie followed after Reiner. He couldn't even walk out of the bar without having to hold onto chairs and tables for stability, and once he exited, he fell against the building wall. Shit, he was definitely going to regret this in the morning. When was the last time he was this drunk? A year ago? Two years ago? After Marcel...yes. Right before he and Bertl separated, and after, too. Pain grew in his chest. He was the only focal point in in his sanity after everything happened. What he wouldn't do to feel his lips again...

He felt his arm hook around someone's shoulders; Connie's. His other arm hooked around Sasha's. _Don't help me, please..._ "Let's get you home, Reiner." He heard one the them say. It was higher pitched so, Sasha? 'Spose it could be Connie if he tried hard enough.

"C'mon, you can make it, Reiner." _I don't deserve this._

"We're almost there, hold on, ok?" _Leave me here._

Reiner couldn't tell how much time had passed since they left the bar. It didn't take more than fifteen minutes to get home normally but his head spun so much he couldn't tell how much time had passed. It seemed to go slower, if he was being honest. It would be easier if they just dropped him here and he stumbled the rest of the way. Of course, though, they didn't do that. Instead, they continued to help him up the three flights of stairs it took to get to Reiner's apartment. "Reiner, are you ok?"

He blinked a few times, registering the fact that he was in front of his door. "Y-yeah I'm fine. Thanks guys, y'can go now." His words slurred and his head pounded, but he managed an almost sincere drunken smile. "I got my keys an' Bertl's home."

Connie and Sasha's eyes still bled with concern, but smiled in return. "Alright. Good night. See ya tomorrow, maybe." Sasha hummed, and headed to her respective apartment. Connie gave Reiner a pat on the back before heading to his own apartment.

Bertholdt paced around the apartment with his phone still glued to his ear. 6:30 was far too long for Reiner to have been gone, and far too long to not at least respond or answer his phone calls. Annie watched him as he did this as she sent a few text of her own Reiner's way. "Sit down." She murmured. "Getting worked up won't make him faster." Bertholdt's only response to this was a quick glance. You don't understand, because you never talk to him. It's not like him to do this. I don't want to go through this again, please...

If Reiner had forgotten, he'd still have checked his phone at some point. If he'd been running late, he'd give Bertholdt a heads up. If he changed his mind, at least he'd let Bertl know. No reply, no answer, no word, no trace...a familiar feeling sunk deep into Bertl's gut. Well, it did for a moment until the door swung open violently, and both Annie and Bertl jumped in their places. Reiner stumbled inside, clearly having put most of his dead weight into the door, because the knob had created an unsightly dent in the wall.

Bertl stepped towards the blond in hopes of helping him walk, but Reiner had pushed passed him to get to the kitchen. Damn, he was so fucking thirsty, dear lord. He turned the faucet, and let the water pour into his hands and drank from them. "Reiner, w-what the hell?"

"N-no, shhhhhh I'sthirsty."

"Where were you?"

Reiner turned off the water but still kept himself over the sink. "I was feelin' down so Sasha a-and Connie took me out for a drink."

Bertl furrowed his brow. "You're smashed!"

"Ok so it was a couple drinks."

"At least give me a heads up!"

Annie let out a sigh. It wasn't out of irritation as usual, but out of relief. Bertholdt could stop pacing back and forth, torturing himself with worries and what-if's. More importantly, Reiner was home. Sure he was hammered, but he appeared to be safe, and he was home. Bertl and Reiner's bickering was drowned out by the movie. The movie played in the background but Annie opted to just turn it off. No one was paying attention.

Reiner groaned, glancing Annie's direction before glaring up at Bertl. "Whas the big deal? I got home fine! Y-y'had some alone time with your precious--"

"Reiner!"

He was silent for a moment, eyes still fixated to those green ones; those gorgeous, angry green ones. What was he doing? This wasn't like him, and Bertl didn't deserve to be thrown under the bus for Reiner's irritation. Why would he do that to his Bertl? He averted his gaze. "Sorry." He whispered, and before Bertholdt could reply, a wave of nausea caused Reiner to vomit into the sink.

Bertholdt muttered a swear under his breath, and Annie stood from where she was sitting. Reiner was sure he'd heard her ask if he was alright, but he didn't care. He couldn't, he had no energy left to care about her at this point. He just wanted to sleep. "Here..." Bertl murmured as he filled a glass full of water and shoved it at Reiner, who guzzled the whole glass.

"What can I do?" Annie asked.

Bertholdt wrapped his arm around Reiner and gently guided him to his bed. "You don't have to do anything." Bertl replied, following up with a small smile. "I'll be right back."

Bertl opened Reiner's bedroom door and led Reiner to his bed. Reiner flopped on his back and let out an exhausted sigh, head still spinning wildly, but it wasn't as bad as before. He felt Bertl's fingers mess with the button of his jeans. A lazy drunk smile grew on his face. "H-hey Bertl, whatcha doing down there? At leas' buy me dinner first." Reiner gripped Bertl's shirt collar and pulled him close, eyes fixed on Bertl's lips. "or at least..." Their lips touched for just a moment but it was long enough for Reiner to taste him again; the taste he missed very very much.

The smile was wiped from his face when Bertholdt shot him a look. Was it a look of anger or annoyance? Irritation perhaps? Bertl pulled Reiner's jeans off, leaving him in just his tee and boxers, before tossing his blanket over him. "On your side, Rei." Bertl instructed, practically forcing the blond on his side. "There."

Reiner exhaled and reached for Bertl's hand. He didn't look to Bertl. He didn't have the will. "I'm sorry."

Bertl crouched beside Reiner's bed, hands still connected. "Don't worry about it." His voice was so soft. Why was it so soft, Reiner had hurt him. He'd overstepped a boundary that should never have been crossed. Bertl's free hand reached up to run themselves through Reiner's hair--it was always something that seemed to soothe him when he was feeling...like this. "Do you need more water?" Reiner shook his head. His eyes were fixated on nothing-in-particular on the floor, but he could only imagine Bertl's expression right now. It was probably that same pity-filled face he'd been exposed to a few years ago. _Don't look at me like that._

Annie was standing in the doorway and didn't make a peep. She just watched as Bertholdt consoled Reiner. She watched very carefully the hands that intertwined and the fingers running through blond hair. What she wouldn't give to feel his--Marcel's--running through her own hair one more time, the same way they did the first time she and he had sex; he was gentle the whole time and even the smallest gesture like running his fingers through her hair in the middle of it was something incredibly memorable to her.

After a few quiet, calm moments, the brunette stood, but the grip on his hand tightened. "Don't go." Reiner whispered. Bertl gazed down at him. Fuck. He looked sad. Terrified. Helpless. It hurt Bertl to see him like this...again. "Please."

"I'll be right back, ok?"

"Please..."

"I promise." Bertl smiled, and the hand trapping his released it's grip. Bertholdt walked out of the room, passing Annie along the way, who followed him into the living room.

She began to gather her things, her hoodie, backpack, shoes, keys. "Thank you for dinner." She hummed, to which Bertl 'mhmm'd. "Is he alright?"

Bertl sighed. "I don't know. Maybe."

"He doesn't usually do this."

"No. He hasn't been like this in...well, in a couple years. He doesn't drink much to begin with. It's only recently started happening again."

Annie frowned. "Why did it start the first time?"

Bertholdt inhaled, averting his gaze and picking at his fingers again. "It started because of Marcel's...Reiner started feeling all of this 'survivor's guilt' and it really put him into a dark place. It lasted quite a while. It was the first year that was the hardest and the whole time he wasn't well at all. He blamed himself for everything, he constantly told me he wished it was him that had gotten in the accident instead." Bertholdt began to tremble as his eyes pricked with tears. "H-he got so bad that I thought he might..."

Annie didn't speak, and neither did Bertholdt. He didn't have to, she knew what he was going to say. She had always thought that Reiner was able to cope much faster than she had because he had always appeared happier than anyone else. She felt like an idiot. Of course he wouldn't be ok, no matter how much he pretended.  Looking happy and being happy are different. Still, it made her think a lot about the past couple years and when she'd actually seen Reiner outside of school. He was always ready to deflect any mention of the event; but so would Annie so she never thought anything of it.

Until Bertl and Reiner's messy split.

"Well, I enjoyed our, uh, movie. Kind of." Bertl muttered, though he tried to force a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

Annie attempted her own fake smile. "Yeah. Good night, Bertholdt."

"Good night." He watched as she left the apartment, and after a quick rinse of the sink, Bertl made his way to the bedroom, tossing his own jeans aside and crawling in Reiner's bed, facing away from his drunken friend.

"You're back."

"I said I would be."

"Thank you."


	10. Chapter 10

_ THURSDAY 16 MAR _

 

Reiner sat up in his bed, still groggy and in pain from the night before.  He groaned as he stretched, though he wouldn't lie.  If he could have stayed asleep longer he definitely would.  Hangovers are always worse in the early morning, he'd come to realize.  There was a shift in the bed beside him, and he looked over to see Bertholdt still asleep beside him, lying on his back with his left leg hitched onto the wall on his side, staying in its upright position due to his foot resting on the windowsill.  His arms were played up above his head and he had kicked the blankets completely off himself.  Reiner watched him for a moment as he slept.  He watched his chest move gently with each breath he took and he admired the strangely normal sleeping position he'd taken tonight, in relative to Bertl's usual unusual positions.  It was nice, though.

 

He flung his feet over the side of the bed and rubbed his eyes.  What time was it?  Well, according to the clock it was 6:45 am.  Time to shower, I guess.

 

Bertholdt stirred and peeled his eyes open and, for a moment, was confused as to why he wasn't in his own room.  This was Reiner's room, that's right.  He turned his head to see no one beside him.  That's good, at least Reiner was up and moving about.  Hopefully his hangover didn't hurt that much.  Still, he was surprised Reiner was already up while Bertholdt, who had no alcohol whatsoever, was still sleeping like a rock at 7:15.  Eventually, Bertl pulled himself from the comfortable, warm embrace of the bed and headed to his own room to get dressed for the day.  He passed Reiner as he was coming out of the restroom.  An awkward silence filled the space between them, before Reiner spoke up.  "Hey."

 

"Hey."

 

"Sorry.  About everything."  

 

Bertl kept talking as he went into his own room, his voice clear from behind the closed door.  "It's fine.  It could happen to anyone.  You lose track of time when you're at the bar, you know?  Especially with Sasha."

 

"Not that.  I'm sorry about last night.  With Annie, and when I kissed you."

 

Bertholdt pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into his hamper, replacing it with a new clean one from his closet.  "You remember that.  I was going to let you forget."

 

Reiner frowned.  "Why?  Aren't you mad?"

 

"Why would I be?"  Bertholdt asked, slipping on a new pair of boxers and a new pair of jeans.  "I know you wouldn't have done it in normal circumstances."

 

_ I would have, though. _  "Yeah."

 

Bertholdt's door opened again, with Bertl smiling, face to face with Reiner.  "It's ok.  I know you didn't mean anything by it."

 

_ Except I did. _

 

"Come on, let's get to class." 

 

As usual, Annie sat in her normal spot for her first class of the day.  It didn't start for another ten minutes perhaps, so she sat idly, doodling on the front of her notebook.  Students began to fill the seats around her, but she gave them no notice; she'd rather continue her drawings.  "H-hey, Annie."  A small voice broke her concentration, and she looked up to see a very nervous Bertl with a very nervous smile on his face.  "Do you mind if I sit here?"  He asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.

 

"Hi.  Go ahead.  You don't need my permission."  

 

He set his books on the table and sat, admiring the small doodles Annie was drawing.  "Those are really good."  

 

"Thanks."  She replied, and hid the drawings under some papers, much to Bertl's dismay.  "How's Reiner?"

 

"Oh he's ok.  Just had a bit too much.  He slept well so he's doing better today.  I still don't know what triggered him, though.  I'm afraid to ask."

 

Annie fussed with her pencil.  She had done a lot of thinking about Reiner and about the things Bertholdt had told her last night.  Maybe it was a bad thing to have told Porco that Reiner was doing well, when clearly he wasn't.  Still, according to Bertholdt, Reiner was doing better this morning, but was he really?  Maybe she should try and talk to him about it; talk to Porco about it.  Maybe Porco's advice could do Reiner some good too, depending on what it was. 

 

It was strange, she had seen what kind of a wreck everyone was right after the fact, and she knew that Bertholdt and Reiner broke up shortly afterward.  

 

"Annie."  His voice pulled her from her thoughts again.  "Thank you.  For coming over, I mean.  It was nice to hang out with you again."  Bertl smiled, and brought his focus to the front of the class as the professor was setting up his presentations.

 

The blonde looked ahead also, her mind still on the sad man from yesterday.

 

+++

 

So monotonous.  This class.  Was so.   **_So._ **  Monotonous.  

 

Normally so, this class wouldn't be so bad had Reiner not gotten quite so shitfaced the night before.  It was amazing, really, how much alcohol can warp your ability to care about a class you're paying thousands of dollars for and how much it can warp your perception of time; because damn if this class wasn't  _ dragging the fuck along. _  He rubbed his face in hopes it would clear away the tiredness that still afflicted him.  He'd never really thought about it before, but it was amazing he never realized all of the little things he did in the morning, like shaving his face, until today as the small whiskers scraped his hands.

 

'Hey man, I think you'd look sick with some facial hair.'  Marcel would say.  Reiner would brush it off.  Facial hair didn't really appealed to him.  Too much upkeep for little reward, plus Bertholdt never liked it...  On second thought, maybe a change would be good.

 

Either way, whether or not Reiner decided on growing a beard, that didn’t make this god forsaken class go any faster.  At least, until his pocket--phone--vibrated.  He discreetly checked who it was; Jean.

 

‘hey reiner when r u free?  i have a question for u.’

 

_ Would it kill you to use proper grammar? _  ‘I have a free period at 11. Where should we meet?’

 

‘i can meet u outside ur class.  ur in business mngmt class right?’

 

_ ‘Management’.   _ ‘Yeah.  See ya then.’

 

He chuckled slightly to himself as he shoved his phone back in his pocket.  Without even trying, Reiner had become the go-to guy for the boys, and some of the girls, in his friend group when people needed advice.  Sometimes it would be something he couldn’t or didn’t want to handle, but even then he tried to help as much as he could with no complaint.  To be honest, it was a boost to his self esteem, because at least people trusted him enough to come with their problems.  He was the problem solver, the advice guy, the big bro.

 

That was a double edged sword.  He never felt comfortable enough to go to anyone other than Bertholdt for his problems.  Sometimes there would be problems he didn’t want Bertholdt to know, so Reiner would just hide them; bottle them down into the abyss and pray they wouldn’t resurface.  Yeah, it wasn’t the healthiest coping method, but he got by.  

 

When was the last time he vented to someone other than Bertl?  Was it Annie?  No, they hardly spoke.  Marcel?  Probably.  Yeah, that was probably it.  It was after that douche bag Lance dared to call him faggot to his face.  Reiner was notorious for being able to play things off, deflect, and be cool in the middle of the heat.  It wasn’t as easy as people would think, and he remembered, on one of his last solo biking trips with Marcel, how much he vented and cried to him about the things Lance had said.  He mentioned having spoken to Bertl about it before, Bertholdt saying that it didn’t bother himself to be called those slurs.  He said he could pretend to be straight if he really felt threatened; one of the pros he considered to being bi.  Reiner remembered how angry that made him.  ‘You shouldn’t  _ have _ to pretend!’  He would growl.  ‘No one should have to pretend to be anyone other than who they are!’  Marcel agreed.

 

Son of a  _ bitch, _ why wasn’t this class fucking  _ over? _

 

Reiner was becoming restless, bouncing his knee and fidgeting with his pencils.  He eyed the clock; Five minutes until class ended.  He wondered what Jean had to talk about.  Maybe he was going to come out to Reiner, like eren had a few days ago.

 

Four minutes until class ended.  If Jean was coming out, what might he be?  He was too into Mikasa to be gay; he thought.  Maybe he was bi?  Pan?  Demi?  Who knew.  Maybe none of those things.  Maybe Jean was as straight as the day is long.  Maybe he just needed help with something in engineering.  That would make logical sense, as it’s the only class the two share.

 

Three minutes until class ended.  What was for dinner?  Burgers were gone.  Bertl and Annie ate them last night.  Maybe they could order a pizza, or Chinese take-out.  There was a cheap Chinese place down the street that always delivered really fast.  Maybe sandwiches.  Jiffy Jane’s was close by.  They were fast at delivery too, and could be a viable option.

 

Two minutes until class ended.  Maybe he should stop watching the clock.  It was making time go by much slower; and if his life were a piece of literature, this probably wouldn’t be included.  If it was, it would only really be there to increase word count.

 

One minute until class ended.  Why the hell was he here?  He didn’t even want this class.

 

That was it.  Thirty seconds until class ended and he began shoving his things into his bag.   _ Who cares? _  He thought.  _  Who cares, who cares, who cares? _

 

As soon as that saving grace, the bell, chimed he was already up and headed towards the door, where Jean had already been waiting for him.

 

“Reiner!”  He called, startling the larger man.  “Are you still cool to talk?”

 

Reiner nodded.  “Yeah.  Are you ok?”

 

“Yeah I’m good!  I just needed some advice.  See...I don’t know if it’s obvious, but, um.”  He began blushing and his eyes darted about.  “I think Mikasa’s really cute.”

 

_ It’s obvious. _  “She is pretty cute.”  Reiner smirked.

 

“And,”  Jean continued, “it’s not that she’s just cute.  She’s beautiful  And smart, and kind hearted.  She’s got a spunk that I really admire.  A-and I think I might have a shot with her.”

 

“Ah, are you asking if you should pursue?”

 

“W-well kind of.  I mean...I don’t think she’s seeing anyone right now.”

 

Reiner patted Jean’s back with a big, but friendly, swing.  “Well, I think you should.  I think you should go for it.  Like, soon.” 

 

“Soon?”

 

“Yes, like, today soon, probably.  Or tomorrow.”

 

Jean thought a moment.  “I did want to invite her to see…”

 

“Iron Diamond?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Reiner laughed.  “Yeah that’s, uh, that’s a popular one.  I never thought those movies were very good first-date movies, but I know she likes them.  I think you should go for it.”  It was strange, but he had always felt if the two got together, they’d make an amazing power couple.  Jean had status, but Mikasa had initiative.  Jean was more impulsive whereas Mikasa was an observer and could balance each other.  Both of them had that fire in them that people wanted.  They were both headstrong, Jean more than Mikasa, and if they were to get together and create something, well, that something might be the best goddamn something on the planet.

 

Jean’s face lit up like a child on a Holiday morning.  “Y-yeah I think I’ll go for it!  Thanks, Reiner!” He gave Reiner a fist bump before nearly running off to concoct his approach.


	11. (NSFW)

It was a rainy day.  The clouds blacked out the entire sky, with the occasional lightning strike lighting things up.  The wind howled menacingly through the small cracks in the doors, and it rattled the windows strong enough one might think they’d eventually break.  For most events, these would have been suboptimal conditions, but for the small group congregated at Marcel’s parents’ home, it was fine.  They gathered in the basement, fully finished with more space than they all knew what to do with.  The group, consisting of Reiner, Bertl, Annie, Marcel, The Galliards, and a small handful of other friends and family, gathered around a rather small table, singing--and embarrassing--an off-key ‘Happy Birthday’ to Porco as his mother placed the homemade birthday cake in front of him.  

Porco faked his smile; he hated the birthday song.  Who didn’t, really?  Who started the tradition of lighting baked goods on fire and chanting in a circle while waiting for the person of choice’s breath to put out the fire?  Either way, he did appreciate the sentiment so he did what he could to make his mom feel better about handing him the cake.  “Happy birthday!”  She hugged him tightly after he blew out the candles.  As he plucked the ‘1’ and ‘7’ off the cake, his dad handed him the knife.  “First cut to the birthday boy!”  He cheered.

_ ‘Birthday Boy.’ _  He smirked.   _ ‘Last year you get to call me that, old man.’ _

Porco didn’t particularly hate birthdays.  He hated his.  It felt like just an excuse for his family to bring over his relatives so they could hound him with the ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’ or ‘You’re too handsome to be single.’ or ‘I know a sweet girl down my street, you’d be so cute together’ and the ever famous, ‘You’ll make some girl very happy one day! You heartbreaker, you!’  Thanks, Nana, but...no thanks.

Bertholdt leaned closer to Reiner as Porco cut the cake, whispering “Did you bring in the present?”  Reiner nodded, gesturing to the large pile of probably unnecessary gifts, most of which Porco might never use past today.  Bertl was more than excited to give him the gift he, Annie, and Reiner got for him.  It was custom made--with help from Marcel--professional quality ice skates.  While he looked more rough around the edges, Porco had an almost unnatural affinity for ice skating and figure skating.  

It began several years ago before Porco even entered high school, but Marcel had taken his brother to a recreation center to swim.  Unfortunately, the pool closed for maintenance, so the boys opted to try something new; skating.  As Marcel kept falling on his knees, face, ass, Porco had picked it up faster than he thought he would.  ‘It’s easy, just do it.’ he would shout from across the rink.  ‘How do you just do it?’  Marcel would shout back.  ‘I can’t explain it.  I just  _ feel _ it!’

It was like watching someone born in the ice.  It didn’t matter how long he skated, how long he took in between sessions--he once went three months without touching the ice--each time he stepped back on, it was like he never left.  It was as if he’d never stepped off in the first place; it was only natural to urge him to keep doing it, and what better way to say ‘You’re doing great!  We believe in you!’ than with a pair of customized, high quality, professional-- _ expensive _ \--ice skates.  Maybe then he’d stop wasting his money on renting used skates.

They could remember his face when he was finally allowed to open gifts--only after everything was cleaned up because  _ damnit, mom slaved over the stove and oven all day, the least these teens could do was help clean up _ .  At first he wasn’t sure what to think after tearing off the wrapping paper.  That was only for a split second, before his face lit up.  If Reiner didn’t know better, he could swear Galliard was about to cry.  He wouldn’t, of course, he was far too ‘ _ cool _ ’ for that kind of thing but he muttered something Reiner and Bertl couldn’t really hear.  Probably some type of Galliard language that meant ‘thank you.’

Marcel nudged Annie.  “You did good.”  He smirked, watching his brother try to walk around the house in the skates.  He claimed it was to ‘break them in’, but everyone knew better.  “I think he really enjoys them.”  

Annie huffed, a smile barely teasing at the corner of her lips.  “It wasn’t my idea.”

“No?”

“No it was Reiner’s.  I only pitched in.”

“Don’t be modest.  You can take credit.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

Marcel shrugged.  “Well, either way, it was a good gesture.”  His arm wrapped around her waist, whispering something against her ear that made a chill run violently through her.  She nodded, the smile no longer teasing, but growing widely.  “Yeah?  I’ll get us out of here, ok?  Be right back.”

He headed over to speak with his family, letting them know that he and Annie were headed out.  Annie Went in search of the two tall boys--men.  They were men, she really had to break that habit.  Reiner wouldn’t allow them to leave without taking a group photo with Porco.  ‘You have to document the good times.’ Reiner cheered; a little trait he picked up from his mother.  Marcel had the camera held out, hopefully getting everyone in frame.  Naturally, Porco scowled as the photo was taken, but that wasn’t unusual.  He frowned in every photo he got, even school photos.

Still, Marcel and Annie managed to get out of there in a reasonable time despite having copious amounts of estranged relatives to push through.  The car ride to Marcel’s apartment was tense in the best of ways.  Marcel would occasionally drop innocent phrases dripping with intent that clearly was not innocent.  Annie did her best to try and drop a few herself.  It didn’t work and Marcel laughed; Annie blushed.  “Stop laughing!”  She snapped.

Marcel couldn’t.  He physically couldn’t.  “I’m sorry!  It’s so not you to say things like that!”

“It’s not even turning you on, is it?”

“No.  But I appreciate the attempt.  It’s been noted, and filed away for future purposes.  Possibly a training video.  ‘How To: Flirting. Volume 1.’”

Annie frowned.  “I don’t need to flirt.”  She desperately wanted to make a comment about her sex appeal, but even she knew she didn’t have any.  What did Marcel see in her, anyway?

If Marcel could be honest, it wasn’t what he saw in her.  It was how he felt while he was around her. It was what he could taste when he kissed her, and how secure he felt hugging her.  He wanted to show her.  He wanted her to know exactly his each moment with her felt.  The first kiss he initiated tonight was only the catalyst.  It was gentile to start, as most kisses between them were, but eventually deepened.  

Her arms wrapped around his neck.  His hands were placed softly on her hips, only moving one upward after Marcel was able to brace himself.  The two had...touched...before.  They had felt each other up before, but there had always been clothing in between.  Neither of them had ever done this before, so while Marcel played cool and knowledgeable, he was a fucking nervous wreck.  He was sure Annie could feel his heart, even with the space between them.  

As Marcel’s hand rested against Annie’s chest, his lips moved from hers to her neck.  He planted little kisses there, occasionally sucking on the skin in hopes it might form a small yet distinct mark.  A high pitched sigh escaped her lips.  Her own hands were busy as well, slipping beneath his shirt and running along his back; and, to be bold, she rolled her hips against him to create a friction that made an unexpected growl emit from his throat that dripped with arousal.  It itched at her ears and pink spread across her face.   _ Please let me make him do more of that. _

Marcel peered at her with half-lidded eyes and he spoke softly.  “Are you sure?  You want this?”

“Absolutely.”  She hummed with no hesitation.

He grinned and captured her lips in his once more before saying, “I’ll stop whenever you want me to stop.  Say the word.”

“Same for you.”  She whispered, her hands now trembling against his skin.  Whether or not Annie was able to feel Marcel’s trembling also was a mystery to him.

Still shaking, he pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it to an undetermined area of his room.  She had seen him topless before, but now with the context and knowledge of what was going to proceed, Annie was more fixated on him than she’d been before.  They were nearly the same skin tone, but there was slightly more tan in him, and she had wondered how she had missed that detail.  Maybe she stared a bit too intently because Marcel began to pull away from her.  “Are you ok?”

She stuttered.  “Y-yes.  Sorry..”  Her hands pulled at her shirt and slowly--nervously--she pulled it up over her head and tossed it aside.  Now it was Marcel’s turn to be awestruck.  He wouldn’t lie, he’d imagined her bare like this before, but to see it in real life was...quite frankly it was overwhelming.  Overwhelming in the best way.  Her skin was pale, especially in contrast to that gorgeous black bra.  Annie inhaled deeply to calm her nerves, and as Mercel watched her chest heave with the breath he had realized that he was holding his own.  He didn’t release his breath though, especially not after seeing Annie begin to reach behind her and unhook the clasps that held the bra in place.  Marcel only exhaled once it had been tossed aside.

“You’re so beautiful.”  He murmured, tentatively placing his hands on her waist again and pulling her close.  The skin-on-skin contact only seemed to amplify their nerves, but it also amplified their need.  

“So are you.”  Annie replied and placed several kisses along his neck and jawline.  Her hands slowly made their way to the buttons on her jeans and hesitated on it for a few moments before taking action.  Marcel swallowed hard.  They were going to do this, weren’t they?  Of course they were.  Annie was onboard, and Marcel definitely was onboard.  Still, he was a bit apprehensive, even as she slid her jeans--underwear and all--off her body.  Would he be able to please her?  Would she find him attractive like this?  She was gorgeous.  Would he be able to compare?  Would he be good enough?  Would he disappoint her?  Was he too crazy?  Was he big enough?  What if he was too big?  What if she thought he looked a different way?  What if the techniques he used weren’t satisfactory?  Was he insane to think this was a good idea?  Was he sure she really wanted this?  Was he sure she wanted him?  Was he, was he, was he, was he…?

Annie stroked his cheek with the back of her hand and smiled.  “It’s ok.  I’m nervous too.”  Marcel stared into her eyes, looking for the sanity he had seemed to lose within the last few moments, and wasn’t surprised to find it in her.  She kept him level, kept him sane.  He was sane, and safe, with her.  He was going to show her, that’s right.  He was going to show her how he felt every day being around her, how incredibly wonderful it was to be with her.  Marcel’s fingers fussed with his own jeans, hesitating much as Annie’s did before he got the nerve to slide them off as well.  Strange, Marcel hadn’t realized exactly how aroused he’d become until freeing himself.  It might have been impolite, but Annie’s eyes kept migrating downward.

Once the layers of clothing were shed, a weight seemed to be lifted off of them.  That was the hard part, they thought.  They can do this.  Marcel shuffled through his nightstand drawer for a moment, snagging the one singular condom he managed to get his hands on a while back.  Their lips met once more, this time a bit more hungry for contact than before, only breaking contact so Marcel could slip on the condom.  

Annie was nervous; she was so nervous but that didn’t deter her.  It only seemed to spur her on and she wrapped her arms around his neck again and pulled him down on top of her as she fell back into the mattress.  Marcel chuckled and planted several small light kisses across Annie’s face until she started giggling.  He loved that sound; the sound of her laugh.  She didn’t laugh often so when she did, Marcel’s heart would soar.  Maybe after tonight, her heart could soar too.  His hand slipped down between her legs and swirled around that sensitive area, causing the woman beneath him to hum softly.  

Marcel watched her.  With each movement of his hand, she began to squirm more and her breaths became more labored.  Pink spread across her face, and after a few moments, he had her wriggling and rolling her hips into his hand.  “Are you close?”  Marcel asked, his voice low and coarse--his idea of ‘bedroom voice.’

It took Annie a second to reply between gasps.  “Y-yeah.”

“Do you want me to sto--”

“No!”  She snapped, her fingers gripping hard at his shoulders.  “Don’t stop.”  Marcel obliged and kept going, picking up speed in the process that caused Annie to inhale sharply before arching her back.  His eyes were fixated on her face.  He watched her as she shut her eyes and made the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard; a sort of in between moan and growl that was filled to the brim with pleasure.

Marcel let her catch her breath, his fingers running gently through her hair.  Her face was no longer pink, but red at this point, and her chest heaved with each breath she took.  He could feel her body too as it shook slightly, tired, but definitely begging for more.  “Well?” 

Annie peered up at him; the blue seemed to have gained intensity.  “W-well what?”  She asked.

“How was it?”

She couldn’t describe it.  How might one describe that anyway?  She’d touched herself before, and had bright herself to orgasm, but this was far too different.  This was far better than anything she could have done to herself.  She couldn’t describe it.  The only thing her brain could come up with was, “Amazing.”

“Yeah?”  His face beamed.  __ **_I_ ** _ did that.   _ **_I_ ** _ did that for her!  _  “D-do you want to keep going?”

“Yes.  Please.”  She hummed.  Marcel grinned and took her lips again, this time much more gentile.

He positioned himself and Annie wrapped her legs around his waist.  It was Marcel’s turn to become nervous.  What if he hurt her? What if…?  Annie breathed a sigh of content which brought Marcel back to himself again.  He could do this.  They could do this.  He began sliding himself inside, making sure to watch her for any signs of discomfort.  Strikingly, there were none.  Still, Annie wouldn’t lie.  Having another human inside her was strange, but something about it just felt right; and so, she smiled up at him and tightened her legs briefly in hopes that he’d understand that she was ready.  He seemed to have understood, because he began to move.  He pulled out just slightly before pushing back in which sent chills up each of their spines.

Soon, the room was filling up with each of their pants, hums, moans, and every so often a gasp would come out.  The bedframe squeaked every once in awhile, but it wasn’t loud enough that it could be annoying or that others outside the apartment could hear.  His lips grazed along her jawline, neck, chest, occasionally slipping so far down as to capture her nipple, only to tease it for a moment before trailing back up to her jawline.  Every so often he’d try to make one of those very distinct, intimate marks on her skin.  Her nails scraped along his back, not hard enough to do damage but just enough to send Marcel into a frenzy.  No, the only thing she did to cause damage was that she had bitten down a bit too hard on Marcel’s shoulder.  She kissed it and spluttered out several apologies, but Marcel thought that it was so fucking sexy.  Maybe he liked it kind of rough…

Heat began to pool inside Marcel and his own breaths turned rough and ragged.  His fingers intertwined with Annie’s.  He kissed her lips once more before gasping out some words she couldn’t understand; but it had been a warning that he was reaching his climax.   After a few more moments, it hit him.  He did his best to ride out his climax but it wasn’t successful.  Still, it was the most pleasurable thing he’d ever experienced this far, and as his own moans filled the room, Annie rolled her hips against his again in hopes of keeping him pleased as long as possible.

Marcel collapsed on top of her, breathless--even more so than Annie had been after her orgasm--and the two rested there in that position for a while.  A long while.  She ran her fingers through his hair, and he ran his through hers.  His head was nestled perfectly in the crook of her neck.  He didn’t want to get up.  He’d rather stay here in the arms of the woman he loved, than get up and break that contact.  

 


	12. Chapter 12

**_SATURDAY 17 MAR_ **

 

_ Maybe it’s not a big deal.  _  Eren thought to himself. _  Maybe I could just say it.  Maybe I can just say ‘Hey, Mikasa, you’re great but I don’t like you that way.’   _ He grimaced.   _ No, especially out of context that would be rude.  Maybe I could casually throw it into conversation, ‘hey by the way, I’m asexual.’  No, no no.  Too forced.  Maybe I could...just go on the fucking date with her.  _  Eren groaned and shoved his face into his pillow.   _ Maybe if I suffocate I won’t have to fess up. _

“Hey Eren,” Armin’s head peeked into the open door of Eren’s bedroom, “it’s noon.  If we’re going to make the reservation, we have to leave soon.”  ‘Yeah, Armin, I know.  I’ll be out in a minute,’ is what Eren meant to say, except it came out more as a muffled whisper due to his face still being smooshed into the pillow.  

After he was sure Armin had left, Eren rolled off his bed and rummaged through his closet.  Reservations were in half an hour.  He could deal with this ordeal later, right now he had to eat.  Well, he had to meet up with a gaggle of his friends at a restaurant where he would, presumably, eat.  It was strange, Krista had arranged a get-together at a local Korean barbecue place that had just opened a few months prior and she invited everyone in their friends group.  Everyone; meaning not only would she, Ymir, Eren, Armin, and Mikasa show up, it would also be Jean, Marco, Sasha, Connie, Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner.  She claimed it was the ‘Eldia High’ (and Ymir) get together and she and Ymir wanted to discuss ‘something.’  Eren half hoped that it was their announcement that they had gotten engaged but even he knew that that wasn’t something Krista would do, especially so young.  ‘Maybe when I graduate college!’ Krista had mentioned, and Ymir would hold her to it.  Whatever the news was, it was rare for anyone to gather the gang all together in one place.  Maybe it was nothing and they just wanted to talk.  It had been a while…

When Eren finally exited his room, Mikasa and Armin were already standing by the door, ready to leave.  Mikasa was dressed semi formal, save for the red scarf she always had wrapped around her neck.  She wore simple black jeans, closed-toe slip ons, and a plain blouse.  Armin, on the other hand, always dressed a bit more ‘formal’ than anyone else in their squad.  He wore a button up and vest, with slacks and dress shoes.  Compared to the both of them, Eren felt severely underdressed in his blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a band t-shirt where the logo already began to wear off.  

“Eren.”  Mikasa spoke up.  “We’re waiting for Reiner and Bertholdt.  They’re not ready yet, but should be soon.  Do you want to change?”

Eren glanced down at his attire.  “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s more of an upscale place.”  She replied, recalling the invitation Krista had given her, ‘Semi Formal Attire Preferred.’  Clearly Eren was taking the ‘preferred’ part very literally.

Eren huffed.  “I think they can handle my raggamuffin self if I’m giving them money.”  They heard a knock on their apartment door, and Mikasa opened it with zero hesitation.  “Hey guys.”

Reiner waved.  “How goes it?  Mikasa, are we all packing into your car?”  He asked.  Mikasa nodded.  Out of all five of them, Mikasa was the only one with either a) a working car or b) a car that could fit three average sized adults and two giants.  He passed Mikasa a $5 bill, claiming it was for gas money.  “Anyone know what Krista wants to talk about?”

Armin shrugged, filling everyone out of the apartment and locking the door behind them.  “No idea.  I thought she was going to say that she and Ymir got engaged.  But that’s unlikely, knowing Krista’s dreams for the future ride on her graduating.”

“Maybe she’s moving away.  Transferring to a better school?”  Eren piped up, straggling behind everyone else as they descended the stairs.

“Unlikely also.  This is the only school in the area that has the program she’s attending.”

Mikasa unlocked her car and people flooded in.  “Maybe it’s not her.  Maybe it’s Ymir.”  She murmured.  “It’s unlikely that Ymir’s leaving; her great-grandmother founded this university.  She whipped her head around to the back passenger seat and eyed Bertl.  “Annie is her roommate.  Has Annie said anything to you?”

Bertl shook his head.  “N-no, she doesn’t talk to us much.  It’s usually about school if she does.”

Armin buckled his seatbelt, taking the front passenger seat; he had no interest in being sandwiched between the two tall boys.  He let Eren take that seat.  The ‘bitch seat’, as Eren called it.  They stopped discussing it as they drove off, but the brainstorming didn’t really stop.  Eren half-worried that it wasn’t even a big deal and that they riled everyone up just so they’d show.  Huh, not a bad tactic, to be honest.  It was apparent others had the same idea, because as they pulled into the parking lot, they saw Jean carpooling Sasha, Connie, and Marco, and they saw Annie carpooling...herself.  Krista and Ymir should have already arrived and held the table.  

The interior was definitely more upscale, so much so that Eren truly did feel out of place; at least until he saw Ymir who was also wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt.  At least he didn’t have to stick out alone.  Truly though, the interior might have been upscale, but the place itself was  _ tiny. _  It was a miracle that the restaurant had enough room for the giant-ass twelve-top table they had to push together, and that meant that the gang was shoved off into the furthest corner to avoid being in the way.  Krista and Ymir sat in the middle facing the door so they could flag down the group, which she did with a big smile and an over-the-top wave.  “GUYS! HI!”

Everyone sat down, which didn’t take nearly as long as one might think.  Krista was to Ymir’s right, Eren sat beside Krista, then Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Marco, Sasha, and Connie to Ymir’s left.  They weren’t able to discuss their news until the server had taken their order, as she was incredibly attentive and left little room for conversation among the gaggle.  Finally, after the food had been served and the server would stay away for a while, Ymir spoke up.  “Well I bet you’re wondering why we gathered you here today.”  She smirked, eyeing each ‘guest’ with a coy glance.  “Truth be told it’s nothing too exciting.”

Krista bounced in her seat.  “It’s exciting.  So I talked to most of you and you all say that you’re wanting to do a midnight premiere on Wednesday right?  Well Ymir and I were talking and we think, if everyone’s on board, that we all rent a limo and drive down there?”

Eren raised an eyebrow.  This was the big news they gathered everyone for?  “How much will it cost?”

“More importantly,” Marco piped up, “will we all fit?”

Ymir grinned.  “We should if we squish.  And it shouldn’t be more than 20 bucks a person, but we were going to reserve it tonight, so we can make sure we have a vehicle available.  So, is everyone on board?”

Jean fussed with his napkin.   _ If we all go together, then how will I be able to get close to Mikasa?  There goes my plan…   _

“I’m down.”  Marco smiled, followed by Sasha, Connie, and Armin.  

“Yeah that’d be good.”

“Great!”

“It’ll be fun!”  

Mikasa turned to Eren.  “Should I pay for both of us?”

“N-no, it’s not necessary.”   _ Please don’t, Mikasa. _

“Ymir.”  Annie murmured, her hand shoved into her bag.  “How will we all sit together?”

Ymir thought about it for a moment.  “I guess we don’t have to.  It’ll be packed, so if you want you can sit wherever.  But if you’re not back to the limo right away afterward we’ll leave without you.”  She smirked, and Krista tugged at her shirt scolding her for teasing.  Annie rummaged through her bag and pulled out a $20 and handed it to Ymir.  “Hm, that was easy.”

Marco peered over to Annie who still had her hand in her bag.  Was she checking her phone this whole time?  He leaned in and whispered, “Are you ok?”

Annie gave him a quick glance.  “Fine.”  Bertholdt peeked over as well, noticing the glare of the phone screen.  He couldn’t tell who these texts were from, as the name was blocked by various items in her bag, but he was able to read the conversation.  

**_[??] 12:02 pm_ ** _  
_ _ I’m here.  Where are you? _

**_[Me] 12:05 pm_ ** _  
_ _ I got held up.  I’ll be there soon. _

**_[??] 12:06 pm_ ** _  
_ _ Better be.  I miss you. _

**_[Me] 12:14 pm_ ** _  
_ _ You too.  Hold on. _

**_[??] 12:17 pm_ ** __  
_ I’m getting weird looks because  _ __  
_ I haven’t ordered anything. _ _  
_ __ Where are you?

**_[Me] 12:19 pm_ ** _  
_ _ Relax.  I’m on my way. _

**_[??] 12:21 pm_ ** _  
_ _ Can’t wait to see you. _

Bertholdt felt like shit for reading her texts--her  _ private _ texts--but it was unlike Annie to use her phone during a meal.  Who was she talking to?  Were they that important?  Why did they ‘miss’ her?  Why can’t they ‘wait to see her?’  Damnit, why did the contact name have to be blocked?  Soon, Annie shuffled through her bag again and pulled out more cash, handing it to Ymir.  “For my food.”  She stood and gathered her belongings--her bag and a light jacket she brought in.  

“Are you leaving already?”  Sasha asked between bites of food.  “We didn’t get dessert.”

“I have someplace I need to be.”  She replied.  “Thank you for inviting me.”  And with that she turned and left the group.  

Bertholdt stared after her, wondering, worrying.  Annie didn’t speak much but did she really keep secrets?  Secrets from him?  From Reiner?  He sat next to her in class yesterday and she didn’t mention anything about a boy…?  Was she talking to her dad?  He continued to stare long after she left the premises, until Reiner placed his hand on Bertl’s shoulder.  “It’ll be ok.”  He reassured him, and offered a smile.  Bertholdt appreciated the kindness, but it didn’t make him any less... _ jealous? _

+++

Annie speed-walked down the street, turning a corner and heading towards a small local cafe that was down this block.  She peeked at her phone; no new texts.  Hopefully he hadn’t been forced to leave yet for not ordering anything to eat or drink.  Hopefully he wouldn’t be too mad she was running late; he hated wasting his time.  As Annie approached, she saw  someone at a smaller table outside on the patio stand and wave to her.  She could tell immediately who it was.  The blond hair, the signature jacket he refused to get rid of; she waved back and walked faster--ran--towards him.  A wide grin spread across her face as they met in a big, tight hug.  “I missed you.”  She hummed.

“I missed you too.  It’s been a while.”

They took their seats, Annie sitting across the way from him.  “How’ve you been doing, Porco?”  


	13. Chapter 13

Porco sat across from Annie, hands folded in front of him resting on the table.  He was hunched over a little bit.  Annie took in his features.  He looked about the same as he did the last time she saw him at the funeral.  The only notable differences was he seemed to gain more structure in his face, as he looked more like a man than a teenager, and he seemed a bit taller.  His hair was the same, still clean shaven, and still apparently ‘rough around the edges.’  Porco’s ‘cool guy’ demeanor still bled through, apparent through the leather jacket and brushed back hair.  “So what took you?”

“I got held up.  Lunch with some friends.”

“Friends!  Interesting.  I didn’t think the stone cold Annie Leonhardt had friends.”  He teased, clearly not lightening the mood with Annie whatsoever.  “Kidding.  It’s good.”

Annie smiled.  “How’s your schooling?”

“Fine.  I’m a couple years until my Associate’s Degree.  You?”

“On my way for an Associate’s as well.  Falling behind a bit since I took Sociology as a favor to Bertholdt.”

“Why would you do that?”

“He’s my friend, and he asked me to do it.”

Porco smirked.  “That’s kind of you.  Too kind.  Are you really Annie?”  He teased again before she kicked the leg of his chair.  “Sorry.  Ok, ok.  Before I get into my spiel, I wanted to ask you, do you feel better than you did Wednesday?”  He asked.

Annie shrugged.  “I don’t feel worse.”  She replied as a waitress walked over to their table.

“Sorry, but you do have to order something to sit here.”  She reminded them. After taking their orders--Annie and Porco both getting just plain black coffees--she went to fetch them right away.  Porco waited for her to leave before pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and promptly lighting one up.

“So,” he mumbled, a puff of smoke escaping his lips as he spoke, “you’re not doing ‘worse.’  What does that mean?”

Annie shrugged again.  “It’s hard to explain.  I don’t think I did much reflecting on myself.”

“Annie, let me ask you something.”  Porco took another drag, this time exhaling properly before speaking.  “When you told me you were upset that Reiner and Bertholdt were faring better than you, why do you think you were upset?”  She furrowed her brow.  “Let me rephrase.  Why do you think they were able to move on faster than you?”

“At the time?”  Porco nodded.  “Well, I guess, they had known him longer than I did.  I thought they would take it harder.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “Yeah?  Well, if they were worse off than you, would you feel better?”

“No.”

“Then why are you comparing yourself to them?  If you wouldn’t feel better if they felt worse, why would you feel worse when they feel better?”

Annie turned away.  “That’s not what I meant.  I just mean, it seemed like they were able to move on with their lives while simple tasks occasionally make me stumble.”

The waitress came back with their coffees and set the cups in front of them.  “Sorry, you can’t smoke here.”  Porco, who had previously been relaxed--happy almost--shot an immediate glare at the waitress as he took one final drag and put the cigarette out on the sole of his shoe.  “S-sorry, it’s just policy!”  She stuttered and walked away.

Porco exhaled his last puff of smoke as Annie took a sip of the coffee.  “Since when do you smoke?”

He let out a huff with an almost-grin.  “Since three years ago.  I found my first pack in the pocket of this jacket.” 

“That was Marcel’s.  Marcel didn’t smoke.”

“I didn’t think so either, until...yeah.”

Annie turned away again, trying not to let the revelation of Marcel’s smoking habit get to her.  “Anyway.  I felt, at the time, that if I struggled, maybe they should too.  It’s selfish, I know.”

“No.”  Porco reassured her.  “There’s no one way to grieve.  At least you acknowledge it.  Maybe you can start to move on.”

She didn’t say anything for a few minutes.  “How did you move on?  How are you doing so well?  He was your brother.”

Porco leaned back in his chair and thought about it.  It was tough, he wouldn’t lie.  “Honestly, the only thing that kept me going was the fact that I knew he’d be disappointed in me if I fell behind.  Call it strange, call it creepy, or crazy, but the thought of him watching me fail hurt a lot.  The thought of him watching me succeed was my fuel.  He can’t live, but why should that mean I stop living too?  I mean, it’s probably crazy.  I don’t believe in an afterlife, but if there is such thing, I don’t want to risk it.”

Annie listened to him intently.  Why she never thought about it that way baffled her.  Still, if she started looking at life with a similar scope, there were probably some things she wouldn’t be able to do.  Sure she could live life, but would she be happy moving on?  Would she be happy getting married, having kids, starting a career?  The only person she thought of doing such things with was Marcel.  “And,”  Porco continued, “you can’t let him be the reason you don’t move on.  Despite what he may have thought, if he wanted you to be loyal and stop your life and never see or do anything ever again, would that stop you?”  Annie opened her mouth to speak but Porco interrupted.  “No.  It can’t stop you.  Because you aren’t him.  You were two people that loved each other but you can’t make that your personality.  You can’t let your relationship be you, otherwise you yourself will never ever be whole and you won’t ever be able to cope.”

She shifted in her seat, taking sips every so often of her coffee when she had nothing to respond.  Porco hadn’t touched his coffee, and passed it on to her.  “Have you considered dating again?”  He asked.

She shook her head.  “I don’t think I could.  I’ve only ever been with Marcel.”

“I think you should try.  I know you love Marcel, but you should try.  At least then you would have at least conquered a ‘fear’ of yours.  Even if it’s just one date, that’s progress.  But it’s up to you and what you’re comfortable with.”

“I don’t think Marcel would appreciate that.”

“So?”

Annie blinked.  Porco kept direct eye contact long enough for it to be uncomfortable, but Annie couldn’t pry herself away.  “You have to be your own person, and you have to work on moving on.  You are not defined by him, his life, or his death. If you choose not to date, that’s fine too, but I think the change might do you well.  Who knows, the person who can help you might be right in front of you.”

She squinted.  Right in front of…what was he getting at?  Was he seriously trying to…?  Then Porco raised his hands in defense.  “ _ Not _ me, not me!  But someone you might not have considered.”

Annie took the cup he passed to her and drank that as well after finishing her own.  “Thank you for talking, Porco.  I don’t know how much it helped, but I appreciate the gesture.”

“Anytime.”  He smiled.  “Is there anything else you wanted to go over?”

“Well,”  she murmured.  “Later Wednesday night, Bertholdt was telling me something about Reiner.  He told me that Reiner has been faking his happiness.  He’s not doing well.”

Porco leaned in again.  “No?”

“I saw Reiner have a breakdown.  It was the end of a breakdown.  Then, Bertholdt told me something that...made me worry.  He said Reiner’s been struggling this whole time, and has been struggling to pull himself back up.  I think if anyone can help him, it might be you.”

He was interested.  He was more than interested.  Reiner had been Marcel’s best friend so naturally he might take it harder than others, but still, Reiner wasn’t the type of person to hold things in so long they eat at him.  Maybe it was to help a person in need, or maybe it was to satiate a sick curiosity in Porco that really made him want to meet up with Reiner and get into his brain.  Honestly, he himself didn’t know what he would be dealing with, since they hadn’t spoken since the day of the accident.  Hopefully it would have been an improvement on that day, but he didn’t know  _ how _ improved.  “What’s he doing tomorrow?”

“Not sure.  I can ask.”

Porco smirked, a hint of deviousness added to it.  Meeting with him shouldn’t have made Porco feel like this, but he couldn’t help it.  He had to know.  “Have him meet me here at 12:30 then.”

+++

Later that night after everyone had retired to their respective apartments, Eren curled beneath the covers of his bed, the only embrace he needed right now.  As he tried falling asleep, his phone dinged him awake; a text from Mikasa.

‘Eren, I was thinking about Ymir’s offer today.  If we go in the limo with them would you still like to go with me?  We could still sit someplace away from them if you want.’

Eren sighed, and after a while, he texted back.

‘actually can we talk about this tomorrow?  there’s something i wanted to tell you.’

‘Oh.  Ok sure.  Good night, Eren.’

‘goodnight mikasa.’


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Drinking and whatnot, and mentions of depressive episodes and mentions of irresponsible drinking.

Reiner almost choked on his drink later that evening as he read the very brief, yet very vague text from Annie; ‘Meet Galliard at Dewdrop Cafe tomorrow, 12:30p.’  What the hell?  Why did he need to meet Galliard of all people at Dewdrop, of all places?  Such inquiries were promptly typed out into his phone and sent to Annie.  He leaned up against the bar top and continued to stare at those words, confused.  Bertholdt, who had begrudgingly accompanied his friend to the bar--again--noticed the furrowed brows and minute scowl Reiner had donned.  “What’s wrong?”  He asked, and Reiner slid his phone so Bertholdt could read it.  Bertholdt paused a moment afterward, having it finally dawn on him that Porco was the one Annie was texting this morning.  He mentally slapped himself for getting so jealous of Porco Galliard.  “Oh, yeah.  Annie must have talked to him already.”  

“What?”

Bertl took a sip of his own drink.  “Yeah, we talked Wednesday about Porco.  She told me he asked about you.”

Reiner’s face hardly changed expression.  “Asked about me?”

“ _ Us _ .  But you mostly... _ she _ said, anyway, I heard nothing from him.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

Bertholdt raised a questioning eyebrow.  “Was I supposed to?  I didn’t think that’s something you wanted to hear since you hated his guts.”

A quick swig of whatever booze he was drinking now before Reiner replied, “ _ He _ hated  _ my _ guts.  I was always pretty indifferent about his existence.”

Bertholdt snorted.  “Yeah, like that’s any better.”  He desperately tried to think of the last time Reiner and Galliard were ever pleasant toward one another, and was quite disheartened to come to the conclusion that there probably wasn’t one pleasant time between them.

He hardly heard what Reiner said next due to his face being muffled by the glass of liquor pressed to his lips.  “Probably wantsta throw Marcel in my face.”  Bertl frowned.

“Stop it.”

“What?”

“Doing  _ that _ .  Porco’s abrasive but he’s not heartless.  Give him a chance?”  

Reiner gave Bertholdt a side glare before downing the rest of his booze, a slight grimace growing on his face as he did so.  Much to Bertholdt’s dismay, Reiner took it upon himself to order another.  “Sorry.  I jus’ find it hard to believe that Galliard wants anything positive to go down.  Remember the las’ time we were around each other?”

“You guys didn’t speak at all.”

“Exactly!”  Reiner exclaimed, his last drink finding its way to his head faster than he thought.  “Why else would he wanna talk?  To get out any last remarks off his chest.”  Bertholdt didn’t think Reiner was right, but opposed to trying to talk him out of the negative thinking, Bertl let him think whatever he wanted.  Based on how fast Reiner was starting to slur, he was fairly tipsy and most likely not thinking things through clearly.  

Reiner managed to guzzle down his drink faster than Bertholdt found comfortable, and despite the blond’s protest, paid the tab so he couldn’t order any more.  ‘Sorry, Rei, you really need to slow down.  This is getting ridiculous,’ is what Bertholdt wanted to say, but instead his mouth said, “Let’s go home.  You have an extravagant day tomorrow.”  He groaned, but managed to peel himself from the bar and head out the door with Bertl.

The two walked in silence for most of the way back to their apartment.  Bertholdt’s eyes were planted to the ground, noticing that he was probably a little tipsy himself with the slight sway in his steps.  It wasn’t until they reached the entrance to their building did Bertholdt break the silence.  “So, Wednesday.”

“What about it?”

“That’s when we have to give Ymir money for the-the dumb limo.”  Bertl fumbled with his keys, struggling a little bit to find the correct one for their door.  

Reiner chuckled.  “It is dumb, isn’t it?”

The door popped open and the two boys staggered inside.  “Heh, yeah but it’s nice.”  Reiner hummed in agreement.  “Anyway, I was, uh, going to see if Annie would go with me as a date...a date type deal, you know?”  Reiner stiffened and Bertholdt noticed.  “Would that be weird for you?”

“Yeah, a little.”  The blond replied in almost a whisper.  Bertholdt swallowed hard and immediately regretted bringing this up.  

“Oh.  Ok, I won’t ask her, then.”

“No, don’t give up your needs for me, Bertl.  I’ll be fine.”  Reiner feigned a smile and made his way to the kitchen, where he rummaged the fridge and pulled out a beer.  

Bertholdt huffed.  “Reiner, stop.  You’re already buzzed.”

“So? ‘S got less alcohol than one of those ol’ cocktails.  It’s basically water.”  He tried defending his actions, but grew irritated when Bertholdt took the can from his hands.  “Hey, give it back.”

“Please?”

“Ok, please give it back.”

Bertholdt shook his head.  “No, I mean, please stop.  Take a break.  Go lie down, sleep or something.”

Reiner eyed him warily.  “Where’s this comin’ from?”

“You!  You’re starting to go heavy on the drinks again and I’m just worried about you.”

“Don’t be!  I know exactly how much I can drink before dying.”  Reiner smirked, in his stupor he hoped that his idea of a ‘joke’, if that’s what it could be called, would ease the tension.  It did not, and Bertholdt found himself worrying a little less and getting angry a little more.  He tossed the can in the trash and headed into his own room.  Reiner followed.  “Hey hey, it was supposed to be a joke, Bertl--”

Bertholdt whipped around to face him, and for the first time in a while, Reiner felt a lot smaller than him.  “Don’t ‘Bertl’ me.  Do you even understand what you put me through?  Do you really think I want to make light of that?  Do you think I look back on those times and laugh?  Do you think I go ‘ha ha, remember that time Reiner was so shitfaced he fell down and almost cracked his head on the counter, ha ha _ ha? _ ’”

Reiner blinked, trying his best to process Bertholdt’s words in his stupor.  “Bertl…”

“Don’t!  Do you know how hard that was for me?  How hard it was to watch you poison yourself and you wouldn’t come home for days at a time?  Do you even know how lonely I was?”

The blond glowered.  “ _ You  _ were lonely?  No, no, you don’t have the right to say that you were lonely!   _ You  _ left  _ me!   _ That was all on  _ you! _ ”  His voice got louder, loud enough for the quiet and meek Bertholdt to match his volume--and loud enough for Bertholdt to startle even himself.

“Because I couldn’t watch you keep torturing yourself!”

“So your solution was to leave when things got rough instead of working through it!”

Bertholdt balled his own hair in his fists.  “Oh my God.  Oh my G--you’re unbelieveable. I tried helping you! You didn’t want help!”

“I didn’t need your help, I got better on my own!”

“Congratulations!  Can I help you through his relapse you appear to be going through?”

Reiner’s expression darkened, and his voice came out in a low growl.  “I.  Am not.  Relapsing.”

“Clearly!”

“You know what, fuck off.  Go run away again.  Go back to your mom’s and ignore the problem.”

Bertholdt was shaking at this point.  Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this angry.  “Do you know what I was doing the entire time I was at my mom’s house?  I spent all my time there thinking about you.  I thought about you and what you might have been doing.  I thought about, maybe if I came home, would I find you asleep in your bed or dead on the floor?  Would I have to call your mom and tell her that her boy was gone?  That’s what I was doing.  I didn’t know what else to do!  I was young and naive, and scared!  If I could do it over again, I would, but I can’t!  And you can’t either!  You don’t get to do that to me again, and you don’t get to do that to yourself again!  Grow up!”

Reiner’s heart beat in his chest and he could feel his face flushed red with anger.  He struggled to find words to throw back at Bertholdt, but none were coming to him.  He knew how much Bertholdt hurt after Reiner’s first lapse into his depression, but having those words spit at him made it sink much deeper than it had before and he hated it.  Maybe right now, though, Reiner thought, it wasn’t appropriate to keep the argument going.  Maybe he should give Bertholdt this win; but, Reiner really didn’t want Bertholdt to have this win.  The ordeal was hard on Reiner, too, and he wanted more than anything to tell Bertholdt how much leaving hurt him more than the alcohol ever could...how he was so lost after that, he sought comfort in another...but Reiner would never bring that up to him.

As he was debating with himself, he watched Bertholdt take a seat on his bed and pull his shoes off--tossing them across the room with loud thunks--and rest his face in his hands.  “Bertl--Bertholdt.”  He murmured.  “Can I sit with you?”

“I don’t care, do whatever you want.”

Well, he wanted to sit with Bertholdt and so he did.  He sat beside him, not sure whether he should put his hand on his shoulder to comfort him or of he should keep his hands to himself.  “Bertholdt, you’re...you’re right.  I’m sorry.  I’ll stop drinking.”

Face still buried in his hands, Bertl let out a soft sigh.  He didn’t know what to believe.  He desperately wanted to believe Reiner, but he also knew that healing wasn’t a one-and-done kind of deal; it took work and time and dedication that he could only  _ hope _ Reiner would be able to put in.

“Hey Bertholdt, look at me, please.”  Bertl reluctantly met Reiner’s gaze.  Those eyes, still so green and still so angry, still so gorgeous.  He was never really sure how Bertl managed this, being so upset but still so  _ Bertl _ that he just wanted to soak up every detail of him, every moment of him; even the bad ones such as this.  “Your eyes are beautiful.”

Bertholdt rolled them.  “Flattery won’t get you off the hook.”

“No, I’m not trying to flatter you.  I mean it.  Your eyes are amazing.  The color intensifies when you’re upset.”  The brunette peered down at the floor, and Reiner had no idea what might be going through his mind.  “T-they were always my favorite part.  Of your physical appearance, I mean.  You have this way of using them to speak your feelings.  Sometimes it’s inviting and sometimes it’s scary, but it’s always beautiful.  And these hands,” Reiner smiled and took Bertholdt’s hands in his, his thumbs running over the darker skin gently, “these hands always know what to do.  They held me up when I was feeling down, they rub my back when I’m sick, they always wave around when you talk about things you enjoy.”

“Reiner…”

“A-and your arms, Bertl,”  Reiner’s hands moved up Bertholdt’s arms.  Bertholdt heard Reiner’s voice cracking and on the edge of a full-on sob, and he could feel a lump forming in his own throat.  “They give the best hugs.  Did you know that?  Y-you give the best hugs.  When you hug people, it feels so safe.  Safe and warm.  It feels so secure, I don’t think you know how nice it is.  A-and your hair, Bertl!”  Bertholdt turned to him, gazes meeting once again.

Reiner’s fingers threaded through Bertholdt’s hair, still as soft and warm as it had always been.  It was a little longer than he typically liked, but if Bertholdt liked it, then Reiner would accept it.  “You have amazing hair, Bertl.  It’s so pretty.  I love it so much.  I never stopped.  I never…never stopped loving you.”   _ I know. _  Bertholdt thought, finding himself leaning into his touch.  He’d always known Reiner’s feelings, but he hadn't ever pointed it out or mentioned anything.  Of course he knew; that’s why he was unsure about confessing his feelings for Annie, or asking about the limo date.  “Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you?”  The first non-slurred words Reiner had spoken tonight had taken Bertl aback.

A sigh from the brunette soon followed, “Reiner.”

“I-I know you like Annie.  I’m trying to be ok with it, but I can’t help needing you still…”  As Reiner blinked, he could feel his face getting wet, but he didn’t have the energy to control it.  “Just one?”

Bertl’s hands reached for Reiner’s face and wiped the tears from his cheeks.  “I’m so angry, Reiner.”  He murmured.  “I’m angry because you can’t forgive yourself.  I’m angry because I couldn’t be enough to help you; and I’m angry because I still love you, too. I’m angry because there can’t be a future for us anymore.”

It was Reiner’s turn to lean into Bertl’s touch.  “I know.  I’m not asking for a future, I’m asking for one last kiss.”

He could feel that Bertholdt was trembling; no, no.  He was the one who was trembling.  Bertholdt could probably feel it; he didn’t say anything.  Why wasn’t Bertl saying anything?   _ Oh, God.  Oh no, oh no, oh no… _  Reiner was sure that Bertholdt would ultimately reject him, throw him out of his room and ridicule him because how dare he make such a request after hurting Bertl;  _ his _ Bertl!  Instead, Bertholdt pulled him closer, lips pressing softly against his.  Reiner melted into it, arms snaking around Bertl’s waist as tongues soon started coming into play and a shiver ran through his spine.  Sure, Bertholdt always tasted wonderful, but the finality of this last kiss made the blond’s head spin; his drinks had worn off during the argument but this was a whole new type of drunk Reiner knew he wanted.  

After a few moments, Bertl pulled away, the duo breathing heavy and flush in the face.  “Is it over?”  Reiner breathed, his arms still around the taller man’s waist.

“If you want it to be.”  Bertl replied.  “It didn’t feel like a last hurrah to me, though.”  Reiner was about to ask what he meant before he felt Bertl’s hand on his thigh.  “You need to get every craving for me out of your body.”

Reiner let out a shaky breath and studied Bertl’s face; was he joking?  Was he secretly drunk?  Was he high?  Still, he was apprehensive, but he pressed his lips to Bertholdt’s again and attempted to guide the brunette to his back; but Bertl gripped Reiner’s arms and pushed him back slightly.  “No.”  Reiner went cold.   _ I’m sorry,  _ he was about to say, before Bertholdt instead guided Reiner to his back and loomed over him.  “I think I’ve earned it.”  Bertl murmured, a slyness that was usually foreign to him dripping from his words.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh Ill get to the Eren thing I promise. Let me knock this out of the way first ☻

**_SUNDAY 18 MAR_ **

 

Bertholdt stirred in his bed, the familiar weight and heat of another body still lingered beside him,   Still too tired to peel his eyes open, he only assumed that the time was maybe 6:15 am?  If he had to guess, based on how tired he still was.  Exhausted really, and he only had himself to blame...well, himself and Reiner.  Regardless, he was only awake long enough to blame himself for a few moments before he drifted back to sleep, soon after being once again rudely awakened when the body beside him shifted and moved away.  The sound of pants being pulled on tingled his ears.  Footsteps were heard making their way out of the room, towards the living room.  The heat beside him faded and left him cold.  Despite the warmth he missed, Bertholdt was still not ready to get up and instead where he was and drifted back to sleep once more.

Reiner yawned and rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen, not mentally ready to make breakfast, but he was hungry and decided it would be more beneficial to get it out of the way.  His feet shuffled along the floor, walking towards the fridge and pulling out what was left of the eggs, opting just to crack them over a hot pan and scramble them.  They couldn’t eat just eggs, so he also rummaged for some type of filler.  The only thing he could find was shredded cheese and a couple tomatoes, how old they were he had no idea.   _Man, I really need to go shopping._  After layering on tons of cheese and putting the bag back in the fridge, he pulled out the remaining cans of beer he had.  He stared at them for a long moment before opening them up and dumping them down the drain. _Might as well get this out of the way while I can._

A ding from his phone brought his attention from the sink.  Who is it so damn early?  He groaned, but checked his phone nonetheless.  A text from Annie.  Actually, five missed texts from Annie.  

 **_[Annie] March 16   9:42 pm  
_ ** _He wants to talk, that’s all._

 **_[Annie] March 16   9:57 pm_ ** **_  
_**_Don’t worry about it.  I know_ __  
_haven’t gotten along in the_   
past, but it’ll be good, I swear.

 **_[Annie] March 16   10:46 pm  
_** _Would it be easier if Bertholdt_ __  
_and I were there too?  We’ll sit_ __  
_at another table to give you_   
privacy, but we can be there.

 **_[Annie] March 16   11:34 pm_ ** __  
_Is that something you’d want?_ __  
_You seem nervous about meeting_   
him.

 **_[Annie] 7:04 am  
_** _If I don’t get a response soon,_  
_I’m going to retract my offer and_  
you can just go alone.

 **_[Me] 7:05 am  
_** _No, it’s good.  I’d like a friend_  
_or two there for emotional_  
_support.  Thanks, Annie.  Do_  
_you know why he wants to talk_  
to me?

**_[Annie] 7:07 am  
_** _Yes._

**_[Me] 7:09 am  
_** _Well… what is it?_

**_[Annie] 7:10 am  
_** _Don’t worry.  It’s good.  I  
_ _promise._

**_[Me] 7:11 am  
_** _Better be.  If it’s not, you_  
_owe me.  Lunch or something,_  
_nothing too expensive.  Unless_  
you want it to be.

**_[Annie] 7:12 am  
_** _Like I have money.  If it’s  
_ _not, I’ll buy you a soda._

**_[Me] 7:12 am  
_** _Deal. :D_

Reiner set his phone down and scooped the scrambled cheese eggs from the pan onto plates, noting the sound of Bertholdt’s bedroom door.  A yawn from the man made Reiner’s mouth turn up.  “Morning.”

“Morning.”  Bertl grumbled.  

“How are you feeling?”  Reiner turned his head to Bertholdt and was oddly surprised to see him wearing Reiner’s shirt.  It was a bit baggy on him, and the neck hole hung lower than what Bertholdt usually found comfortable, but it was good to use as a cover until he was actually ready to dress for the day.

“Alright.  Tired.  A little sore.”

The blond nibbled the inside of his cheek.  “Yeah.  Me, too.”  He swore he could still taste Bertholdt’s tongue.  He could definitely still feel where Bertholdt’s tongue traced along his throat.  “I made breakfast.”

“Oh, yeah.  Yeah, thank you.”  He murmured, watching Reiner gather the forks and glasses for beverages.  Bertholdt stood silently in the threshold of the kitchen, not sure if speaking would be acceptable or not.  Even as Reiner walked past him and set the food on the table, Bertl found words hard to come by.  

“Listen, Rei...I’m sorry.  About yesterday, I shouldn’t have done that.  It’s not like me to do something like that.  It probably didn’t help our feelings at all.  And besides, you’d been drinking, and I feel...I feel awful.”

“It’s ok.  I wasn't that drunk anyway.” He smiled in hopes that would reassure his friend.  “It's ok.  It was good, I had fun.  A nice way to bookend an era, huh?”

A small chuckle from the brunette.  “Heh, I suppose you’re right. So, uh, what did you make?  Just eggs?”

“Yeah, I couldn't find anything else.  But, they’re eggs with _cheese_ .  So they’re _almost_ fancy.  And,” He went back into the kitchen and came out with a half-empty jug of juice, “orange juice.  So it’s almost a balanced breakfast.”

Bertl smiled and took his seat at the table.  “We’re just missing bacon and some type of bread product.”

Reiner took his own seat.  “Who needs a grade-A breakfast anyway?”

“I give this breakfast a hard C.”

“Well, it’s a passing grade, at least.”

Bertholdt took a few small bites of his grade-C breakfast, his eyes glossing over Reiner’s face.  “You decided to grow a beard?”

Reiner reached a hand to his own face, indeed noting the amount of stubble.  It wasn’t too impressive, having not shaved for only a couple days.  “Oh, yeah.  I thought I’d try it out.  I’m not sure if I should go full-on beard or just a moustache.  It didn’t bother you last night, did it?”

“No.”

“Oh.  Good.”   _It_ **_used_ ** _to bother you._

Bertholdt gave him another brief smile before shoving more food in his mouth.  The two sat in almost silence for their meal, occasionally throwing out small talks, talks of school, friends, Wednesday’s inevitable massive outing with everyone.  Every so often, Reiner’s eyes glanced down to linger on a very small, intimate mark he left on Bertholdt’s collarbone; the last one he’d make.  What he wouldn’t do to make just a few more.  What he wouldn’t give to have Bertholdt _just one more time._  Hell, even if it was just holding him while watching a bad movie on the couch.  He’d give anything.  “I got a message from Annie this morning.”  Bertl’s voice snapped Reiner back to reality.  “She, uh, wants me to go with you to meet Porco.  For moral support.”  

The blond fussed with his food, hardly having eaten any of it.  “Yeah.  It’d help.”

“Sure thing.”  A genuine smile from Bertl coerced a genuine smile from Reiner.  

 

+++

 

The last remaining steps needed to actually make it into the cafe seemed a lot heavier than the ones leading up to this point.  So much so that Reiner didn’t think he’d be able to step inside; a gentle push from Annie let Reiner cross the threshold.  His eyes scanned the cafe, noting Galliard sitting in a small table in the corner, then shifting back to the menu lingering above the front counter--maybe if he pretended Galliard wasn’t there, he wouldn’t have to actually talk to him.  That, of course, didn’t work because Annie piped up.  “He’s over there.”

 _Why?_  “Oh.  I didn’t see him.”

“If you need us, we’ll be here.”  She replied, gesturing to an empty table a few spots over.  

“You good?”  Bertl asked, a hand resting on the blond’s shoulder.

“I kind of feel sick.”

“That’s just anxiety.”  Annie murmured.  

 **_Just_ ** _anxiety._  A deep inhale through his nose and Reiner--slowly--made his way over to where Galliard was sitting.  The jacket he wore.  Reiner recognized it immediately--Marcel wore that jacket constantly.  It was only befitting to have his younger brother be the next in line to wear it.  Galliard fussed with his phone and hardly noticed Reiner’s approach until he was already at the table.  He peered up at him without saying anything, just waiting for him to take his seat; after an unusually long time, Reiner finally sat down.  He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he awaited the inevitable barrage of insults from the younger and grew more uneasy when they didn’t start flying right away.  “Braun.”

“Galliard.”  

“Did Annie tell you why I wanted to see you?”

He shrugged.  “She was vague, as always.  Nice jacket.”

Galliard looked down absentmindedly.  “Oh.  Thanks.  It was Marcel’s.  He gave it to me.  Said it had a weird smell all of a sudden, but I could never smell it.”

Reiner leaned in a little bit on the absurd notion he might smell whatever Marcel referred to--all he could smell was cigarette smoke.   _That explains it, then._  His mind flashed back to when Marcel had shoved a full pack into his pocket--he never recalled Marcel ever actually smoking anything, but that wouldn’t stop the actual package from creating a less-than-pleasing aroma.  “He gave me an old band t-shirt once, autographed by the band.”

“What band?”

“Hell if I know.  I think it was some indie band with a weird sound.  I don’t have it anymore.”

Galliard’s response to that wasn’t much more than a tiny half-smirk.  He didn’t say anything else, instead took in Reiner’s features--scruffy face, but he still dressed like he had back in high school and the few years after.  His hair was a little longer than Galliard remembered.  His physique had hardly suffered; still somewhat muscular but not over the top.  His hands were folded in front of him on the table, nearly screaming out that he didn’t want to be here.  His eyes were what interested him most.  They gave off the impression that Reiner was relaxed, just hanging out--but beyond that Galliard could tell he was still a sad man.  If he hadn’t known to look for that detail, he may have missed it altogether.   _Annie was right, he is really good at masking his emotions._

“So.  What did you want to talk about?”  Reiner asked.  The idea of this guy combing over him just made Reiner want to get this over with quicker.

Galliard leaned back into his chair.  “Just wanted to know how you were.”

Reiner squinted.  “I’m fine.”  He replied with an upward inflection.

“Are you?”

A waitress--the same one from yesterday shuffled up to them.  “Hi!  I’m Kayla.  What can I get you to drink today?”

Reiner opened his mouth to order but Galliard beat him to the punch.  “Two coffees?”  Reiner wasn’t a huge fan of coffee, but he didn’t make an effort to change his order, and instead let the waitress saunter off with the order.  “Anyway.  Are you?   _Really?_ ”

“Why?”

“Well, word on the street is you’re not.”

“What street?”

“The ‘Annie’ street.”

Reiner peered at her from the corner of his eye.  “She seems more like a Lane than a Street to me.”

Barely a chuckle from Galliard.  “She could be.  So.  Are you?”

“Do you think I’m not?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think, Braun.  What matters is what you think.  What you feel.  I could scream from the top of my lungs about what I think you should feel, but that won’t actually change what you feel.  So.  Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

It was apparent Galliard didn’t believe him.  “Ok.  Well.  How’s school?”

“Fine.”

“Is this an ‘I-Want-To-Dodge-The-Question’ fine or a legitimate fine?”

“It’s legitimate.  I’m passing all my classes and I have great friends.”

“That’s good.  Still going in for Engineering?”

Reiner nodded as the waitress set the coffee cups in front of them and promptly doctored it up with sugar and cream.  Once he was done, it hardly resembled coffee and had enough sugar to give a dentist an aneurism.  “Are you still going for Psych?”

Galliard took a sip of his undoctored coffee, and Reiner wondered why he didn’t make a face.  Maybe Galliard liked his coffee black as his soul.  “Yep.  On my way towards an Associate’s.  Hopefully I can get into Criminal Psych later on.”  

“Is that what you want to do for the rest of your life?”

“I think so.  It’s interesting, plus I poured thousands of dollars into it.  It’d be a waste to quit.”

Reiner smiled a bit.  “True.  Do you, uh, do you still skate?”

“Absolutely.  Why wouldn’t I?”

“I figured it might be hard.  I mean.  You know.”

“What?  Marcel got me into it, yes, but I skate for me.  Not him.  I still have those skates you all gave me.  I still use them, too.”

His expression lightened.  “I’m glad you like them.”

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he could see the corners of Galliard’s mouth turn up just slightly.  “What about you?”  Galliard continued.  “You still wrestle?”

Reiner averted his gaze, instead resting it on Annie and Bertl a few tables over.  They looked like they were having a decent chat; hopefully it was going better than his conversation with Galliard.  Not that this conversation was _bad_...it wasn’t going swimmingly. “No, I dropped out.”

Galliard followed Reiner’s gaze.  “Why?”

Marcel’s voice rang through Reiner’s mind. _‘Hey Reiner!  Let’s take wrestling together!  It’ll be fun, and we can get all the babes_ **_and_ ** _dudes.’_  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright, we can talk about something else.  Jobs.  You have a job?”

Reiner slumped, eyes still locked on Bertholdt. _He’s smiling.  That’s good.  Has he asked her on that date yet?_  “No.  Bertl does, though.”  

“That’s good.  How are things for you two?  How’s the married life?”  From Reiner’s shift in expression, Galliard could tell the answer.  Of course, a quick glance at Reiner’s left hand would have given it away.  “Or not.  What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about that either.”

Galliard sipped his coffee.  “Ok.  Well, you know what.  I’m just going to cut to the chase.  Annie told me something that made me...well, it interested me.  I don’t mean in a study kind of way.  Legitimately, you’ve always been one of those happy-go-lucky, always upbeat, make-me-want-to-vomit kind of happy so I wanted to see where you were.  She told me you had some kind of a breakdown?”  Reiner’s brows knitted.  Galliard noticed.  “So you did?  Are you hung up on something?”

Reiner fidgeted with his cup.  “Why did she tell you that?”

The younger shrugged.  “She thinks I can help.  I helped her through some things.  She thought I could help you, too.”  Reiner’s wariness didn’t fade--what could he do to help?  Throw insults?  They haven’t started yet but Reiner knew it inevitable.  Still, he listened.  That’s all Porco could ask for.  “What’s on your mind?  Is it Marcel?”

“Did she not tell you that also?  She seems to have told you a lot.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

The older man let out a sigh. _Don’t, he’ll just make you feel worse._ “I don’t want to talk about it, either.”  The older could tell Galliard was getting upset.  He was doing a fantastic job keeping it hidden, but Reiner could tell--Galliard’s jaw clenched ever so slightly and the grip on the coffee cup tightened.  When they were young, Galliard would constantly exclaim when things weren’t worth his time. _‘I have better things I could be doing!  Stop wasting my time!’_  He would shout, usually during games, in class, sometimes while talking to people he knew (or hardly knew, depending on the situation), or when girls would show interest in him.  Most of the time, it was directed at Reiner. _‘Braun, you are literally a waste of space.  Get out of my way.  I have things to do.’_ Clearly he hadn’t changed since then, still easily annoyed that this ten minute conversation was ten minutes too many.  

A stifled laugh from Bertholdt pulled Reiner’s eyes to him.  He sat there, his smiling eyes focused solely on the small blonde in front of him.  His hand covered his mouth but he was definitely still laughing.  Annie was smiling, too.  What did she say?  Or was Bertholdt laughing at his own joke?  Reiner loved it when he did that.  Sometimes, Bertl would try to tell a joke, but wasn’t able to finish because he was too busy laughing at the undelivered punchline.  Watching the tall boy struggle to deliver the joke through his giggles was sometimes more funny than the actual joke.  God, when was the last time Bertholdt told a joke?

“There’s a lot.  A lot on my plate.”  Reiner murmured finally.  That was an understatement.  If his life was a plate, it would take the form of a saucer instead.

A sigh, this time from Galliard.  “Ok, look.  I don’t want to be ‘that guy’, but you can’t keep avoiding your problems and expect them to clear up.  If you’re free Monday, just give me a call, ok?  Give yourself time to collect your thoughts.”  He handed Reiner his phone.  “Put your number in there.  Name it something befitting, like ‘Asshole’ or something so I know it’s you, then call yourself so you have my number, too.”  Reiner let out an unamused half-chuckle, but typed his number anyway and handed it back to Galliard.  “‘Fuckface.’  Not exactly what I had in mind but it does fit.  Thanks, Fuckface. I look forward to your call.”

“I have class Monday.  Out at three.”

Galliard shoved his phone back in his pocket, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.  “What’s after?”

“Nothing.  Bertholdt works, but I don’t have plans.”

“Perfect.  Better call me, Fuckface.  I have nothing to do on Monday, either.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Skycastle! The ‘ugh’ in frustration was for me aha. I feel, personally, I should have brought that up sooner so it’s all aimed towards me! Not you! You’re bae! It wasn't at you at all! I hope it didn't come across that way!! I appreciate your support and you definitely aren't pressuring me! Big Bro Reiner is best! :)

_ “Die!  Die!”  A tiny fourteen-year-old Reiner shouted at the television.  His thumb pressed the game controller buttons hard, as if the change in pressure made his attacks stronger.  He sat cross legged in front of his bed and a tiny fourteen-year-old Bertholdt sat beside him with his own controller.  His own thumbs pressed a myriad of buttons.  The two pixelated characters on screen aimed to destroy each other at the boys’ commands.  “Come on, die already!  Wow, you’re really holding out this round.” _

_ Bertl’s face brightened.  “I was taught by the best.”  He smiled at the boy beside him.  Reiner chuckled.   _

_ “I am the best, arent’ I?” _

_ “I meant Marcel.” _

_ The blond tsked.  “Marcel  _ **_wishes_ ** _ he was the best.”  He smirked, peering at his friend from the corner of his eye.  Bertholdt’s eyes were fixated on the screen in front of him, the light from the television highlighting his face.  The screen reflected in his eyes, so green and sweet and welcoming.  Bertl’s lips were parted slightly, a little dry but he made no attempt to moisturize them. Instead, they turned upwards into a smile, baring those pearly whites he always hid behind them.  He’d kissed girls before, but he’d bet his whole life away that Bertholdt’s lips were better to kiss than any girl’s.  Reiner’s heart throbbed and he took a sharp breath in.  Bertholdt had said something, his lips were moving for sure, but Reiner missed it.  “Huh?  Oh, what the hell, you won?”  Damn it, he was completely distracted. _

_ Bertl’s arms were raised in victory.  “Yes!  You owe me a Snack Pack!” _

_ A discontented grunt from Reiner.  “Alright.  Chocolate or butterscotch?” _

_ Bertl hummed, tapping his chin.  “Mmm, surprise me.” _

_ Reiner headed out of his room to grab the pudding pack from the kitchen.  “You know,” he said as he walked back into his room and handed Bertl his pudding pack--butterscotch, “you only won because you’re cute.” _

_ “I know.”  He responded.  His tongue lapped up the bits of pudding from the lid, and Reiner gulped. _

**_No, you don’t get it, idiot._ ** _ “So.  Do you know if you’re going to invite anyone to the Before-Summer-Palooza dance?”   _

_ “I don’t think you have to invite people.  I think it’s just a little fun thing before we leave middle school and go to--” he shudders at the thought “--high school.  I probably won’t dance anyway.  There’ll be games and stands to buy things too, so…” _

_ “Y-yeah, but do you know who you’d invite?  If--if you had to?” _

_ Bertl raised an eyebrow.  “Uh...not really.  I don’t think I’m interested in any of the girls…not enough to invite them to a dance.  Do you?  I think Lisa likes you.  Lisa from math?”   _

_ Reiner shook his head.  “N-no.  I don’t...Um.”  Then he let out a sigh and gripped his knees to steady himself.  “I don’t know why I’m tip-toeing around.  I want to tell you something.” _

_ “Hm?” _

_ “But you can’t tell anyone, ok?  Please?  I’m only telling you because you’re my best friend.”  Bertholdt nodded, shoveling spoonfuls of pudding into his mouth.  “Promise!” _

_ “I promise.”  The boys entangled their pinkies together. _

_ The blond inhaled deeply and averted his gaze to focus on literally anything that wasn’t Bertl.  “I, um.  I don’t like… I mean, I...oh, God.”  Damn, it was so much harder to spit out than he’d anticipated.  The grip on his knees tightened and he was trembling so much that Bertholdt eyed him nervously, wondering if he was alright.  Reiner’s heart beat hard in his chest and he almost felt sick, he was so scared.  “I like...I like...boys. ” _

_ The silence between the two was louder than any noise Reiner could have ever heard.  He didn’t look at Bertl; he couldn’t see Bertl gaping at him mid bite.  He couldn’t see Bertl’s eyes well with tears at his friend’s confession.  Instead, he saw only his floor, and could only feel the tension wafting through the air between them.  He could barely feel his friend shifting beside him.  “Really?”  Bertholdt whispered.  “Are you kidding?”   _

_ Reiner shook his head.  Why would he lie about this?  About  _ **_this_ ** _ , of all things?  “If you don’t like me anymore...I get it.  I know it’s weird.” _

_ “It’s not weird, and you’re still my friend.”  Bertholdt hummed.  He had set his pudding cup beside him and scooched closer to Reiner.  “I like boys, too.”   _

_ Reiner gasped and perked up.  The weight he was carrying seemed to lift right off his shoulders.  “Are you for real right now?” _

_ “Mmhm… I was always afraid to say something.  But I don't know if it makes a difference if I like girls, too.” _

_ “You like girls, too?  I only like boys.” _

_ Bertl smiled.  “That's ok. My mom said it's ok to like anyone you want.  It's not about gender, but about love.  I was scared to tell you, though, because some people still look down on things like that.” _

_ “Some people say that gay people are deviants and can't control themselves.  That they try to be with other guys, no matter what and try to make other guys sinful.  But I don't think it's true at all. I don't want to be with all guys.  I just want one that loves me, and I want to love him, too.  That's not bad, is it?” _

_ Bertholdt placed a hand on Reiner’s shoulder.  “It’s not different than straight people, I think it's the same.  If you don't like someone then don't pursue them.  But if you do, and they like you back, then how is that bad?” _

_ A grin grew on the blond’s face.  “Thanks, Bertl.  Congrats on being bi.” _

_ “Congrats on being gay.” _

_ “Does your mom know?” _

_ “No.”  Bertl replied.  “Does yours?”  _

_ “Nope. Maybe I'll tell her someday.  I don't know what she'll think, though.”  Bertholdt hummed in response, and Reiner let out a contented sigh.  “So, if you aren't going to the end of the year party with anyone, would you want to go with me?” _

_ Bertl felt his face flush warm, green eyes meeting amber.  “Y-yeah.  I'd like that.” _

_ “Good! Then it's a date?” _

_ Bertholdt smiled and continued to eat his almost-forgotten pudding pack.  “It's a date.” _

 

+++

 

As Eren trudged out of the apartment building, he saw Mikasa waiting for him in her car.  She and Eren had planned to sneak snacks into the theatre on Wednesday--much cheaper than buying extremely overpriced theatre concessions.  Luckily Mikasa’s bag was deep enough she could store a lot in there and they'd be none the wiser.  A few large sized candies, maybe some chips, bottled soda...theyd be set, for sure.  Still, the thought of telling Mikasa itched at the back of Eren’s mind, and that seemed to translate into his body language.  “Are you alright, Eren?” She asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the road in front of her. 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” He replied, hoping his weak smile would diffuse the situation.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Mikasa gave him a quick side-eyed glance.  “What did you want to talk about?”

Shit.  Eren was hoping to avoid it, at least as long as he could.  He knew it would just be harder the longer he waited, though, so he took a deep breath.  “Mikasa.  I-I don’t know how to say this.”

“Take your time, Eren.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Eren, it’s me.  You can tell me anything.”

Another deep breath.  _  Rip off the bandaid.  Like a bandaid--quick and painless. _  “Mikasa, I think I’m a-asexual.”

“Oh.”  She hummed, eyes still fixed to the road.  Eren kept his eyes lowered, waiting for her response--but none came.  Why wasn’t she saying anything?  Maybe she was trying to process it, or maybe she didn’t know what the term meant?

“L-listen, I know that’s probably weird to hear.  I just didn’t want to...I didn’t want to lead you on.  I wasn’t sure how I should approach this, so I talked to Reiner and he said that things would be better if I told you, so I thought I’d do it, and…”

“You don’t have to explain.  I’m happy for you.”

Eren perked up a bit.  “Really?”

Mikasa gave him a small smile.  “Why would I want you to be someone you’re not?  If this is who you are, then I’m happy. I’m not like a certain someone else who wants you to be just like him.”

“You can say his name.”

“No.  The thought of his name in my mouth makes me want to vomit. Ze-e _-e-e...”_  She grimaced and faked a gag.

“Me too.”  Eren let out a quiet laugh, as did Mikasa.  “But...seriously, thank you Mikasa.  So much.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.  If it’s any better, though, I’ll still go to the movie with you.  As a friend.”

“Of course.  As a friend.”  

Eren let out a sigh of relief.  Just like Reiner suggested, ripping the bandaid off and telling her was the best thing he could have done.  And as Reiner had predicted, she was fine with it; maybe a bit disappointed that her potential partner wasn’t actually interested in her, she was still supportive.  “Mikasa...thank you.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda clunky ending, i got real sleepy as i wrote it so i may fix it but also might not, we'll see aha haah

**_MONDAY 19 MAR_ **

 

Bertholdt groaned as he rolled out of his bed.  He'd awoken to find his face pressed against the floor and his legs still somehow on the bed but his back was definitely in pain.   _ How the hell do I sleep like this? _  As he stumbled over to the shower and hoped the hot water would ease his pain, he passed Reiner, asleep in the hall with his phone in his hand.  Bertl poked him with his foot.  “Whatcha doing?”  Reiner rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking around, trying to process where he was.

“Huh?  Oh. I was watching Netflix but the wifi in my room sucks.  Clearly the hall was superior to the couch.”

Bertl chuckled.  “Clearly.”  He extended a hand and helped the blond to his feet.  “You never told me, how was your talk with Porco?”

Reiner shrugged.  “There were words.  And sentences.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me more.”

“There were paragraphs, too.  And consonants.  Some vowels.”

-“Riveting.”

Reiner laughed sleepily.  “Yup.  Enthralling.  What about you and Annie? Did you...ask her yet?”  

Bertl shook his head, heading into the bathroom, not batting an eye when Reiner followed him in.  At least he had the decency to avert his gaze as Bertl undressed.  “Not yet. We just talked about life.  Joked around.  I was going to wait and make sure you were ok first.” He started the water and hopped in, separating the two by the opaque curtain.  “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.  I'm a lot better, actually.  I think our fight the other day helped clear my head.

“I'm glad.”  

Reiner sat himself on the toilet lid as he waited, the smell of some type of fruit filled the air.  Must be shampoo.  “Again, I'm so sorry.”

“Please don't beat yourself up.  It's in the past.  Just look forward.  That's all I ever wanted for you.” 

“Thanks.”  Reiner hummed.  “Hey Bertl.  Whatcha doin’?”  

“Uh, shampooing?”  

“Thought so.”

“Why?”

“Bored.”

“You can leave if you're bored.”

“Nah, I like talking to you.”

“Aw, you're so swee--ew! Soap in the mouth!” Bertholdt cried, spitting out whatever shampoo fell on his tongue. 

Reiner laughed.  “You know, Annie had better say yes.  You're too good and pure to pass up.”

“Pure, Huh? I don't think Saturday was very ‘pure’.”  Bertl hummed, and turned the water off.  “Hand me my towel?” Reiner obliged and tossed Bertl’s towel over the shower curtain bar.  

“That was pure in a different sense.”

Bertl scoffed.  “Oh, yeah,  _ sure _ .”

As Bertholdt walked into his first class of the day, he noticed the very familiar blonde sitting in her usual seat, and strode over to her.  “Hey, Annie.” He hummed and set his Sociology books at the open space beside her.  “Can I sit here?”

“Sure.”  She replied, watching him as he carefully took a seat.  “Thanks for keeping me company yesterday.  It would have been boring just waiting for those two.  It was really fun.  You're funny.  Especially when you laugh at your own jokes.”

Bertl shrugged, blushing a bit at her ‘joke’ comment--that was always the one thing that thwarted his joke-telling skills.  “It’s nothing.  Uh, thank you, too.  I think having us tag along helped Reiner’s anxiety.  That was a good idea.”  Annie gave him what could only be described as a half-smile before flipping her notebook open and doodling random things in the margins.  “Um...A-Annie I was wondering…Wednesday.  I know we all, uh, wanted to go in Ymir’s limo and I'm ok with that but I was also wondering if you'd want to go? With me? In the...the limo?”

“Yes.”  She said, shifting her glance from the doodles to him.  

Bertholdt didn't need a mirror, he could feel his face go beet red.  “Really?”

“Yes.  You mean like a date, right?”

“I-it doesn't have to be! If you don't want it to be!”

Annie smiled again.  “You know, Bertholdt, I'm not sure if I'm even ready to start dating again, which is why I've not pursued anyone yet.”   Bertl kept his eyes fixed on her drawings, on the off chance that she'd reject the date notion--at least he wouldn't have to be stared straight in the face as his heart crumbled.  Annie continued.  “But I feel like with you, it’d be different.  I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt me. I trust you.  So, yeah, I'd like to go with you on Wednesday.  As a date.”  

Bertl hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until he let it out.  “Really?” Annie nodded, turning her attention back to the notebook.  “Wow.  I had a lot of things prepared for a rejection, why didn't I prepare for  _ this? _ ”  Annie chuckled.

“It's fine.  I know it's been a while for you.  Asking someone out, I mean.  I'm glad you did it.  Also, Wednesday's my birthday and I was going to head up to Trost after school.  My favorite restaurant is up there.  My dad's out of town for business so it was just going to be me, but do you want to come along?”

Bertl’s heart beat hard in his chest, he hoped it wasn't too obvious.  “Y-yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great.  I’ll pick you up at four?”

“Aren't I supposed to pick  _ you _ up?”

“Do you have a car?” 

Bertl sunk in his seat.  “No.”  

“Then it's settled.” Annie said, eyes focused now in the professor in the front of the room.  “Wednesday, four pm sharp.”

Bertholdt nodded, his expression very nonchalant but his innards were doing happy flips; so happy he sent a brief text to Reiner, ‘She said Yes! : D ‘

A few moments passed before the reply, ‘Told you, she'd be dumb to say no to you.  Congrats, Bertl.  ♡’

Then another, ‘Sorry, supposed to be a thumbs up.  Didn't mean to send a heart.’

Bertl smiled and replied. ‘It's ok. ♡♡’

‘♡♡♡’

‘♡♡♡♡’

‘ :P ’

‘ ;o ’

‘Pff, get back to class you delinquent.’

‘Make me, Also-Delinquent.’

A text from Annie.  ‘Reiner says to pay attention.’  

Bertl frowned, sending an ‘ok’ to Annie, then a quick ‘You win this round, Lt. Braun.  But I will be victorious next time!’

‘ ;) ’

 

+++

 

After class, Reiner found his way to his apartment, passing Bertl on the way.  Bertl had been heading out to work, leaving Reiner alone for the next eight hours.  As he flopped on the couch with a sigh, he flipped the television on to whatever channel happened to be on; unsurprisingly, it was on BBC, something Bertholdt absolutely adored, for  _ reasons _ .  Whether it was to keep up with Doctor Who or to catch the latest Planet Earth.  Right now, it looked like he was recording a Planet Earth special.   _ What a nerd _ .  Reiner laughed to himself.  Who was he kidding, though? He loved that nerd.

As he began to drift off to sleep, he jolted awake.  He was supposed to call Porco.  Ugh, he was so tired.  Why did he agree?  Still, he pulled his phone from his pocket and sifted through his contacts, selecting the name ‘Gaylord’ (a less-than-favorable nickname bestowed upon Porco when he was fifteen by less-than-favorable classmates. ‘Hey, Gaylord.’  ‘Its Galliard.’ ‘Yeah whatever.’) and hit call.  

_ “Hey, Fuckface, you decided to call.” _

“Yep.”

_ “So, you busy?” _

“No, why?”

_ “Can I come over?” _

“No.  Why?”

_ “Too late, I'm parked outside your building.  Let me in.” _

Reiner scoffed.  “No.”

_ “Bitch!  Let me in, it's chilly.  I don't have heat.” _

“It's hot as balls outside.”

_ “Ok, I don't have A.C.  Whatever.  Let me in.” _

Reiner pursed his lips as if Galliard could see him.  “Mmm, what’s in it for me?”  He could hear the younger sigh through the phone.  After a second, Reiner could hear a long, steady noise through the receiver, and faintly hear one from outside his window.  “What is that?”

_ “I’ll piss off all your neighbors, Braun, I swear to God.” _

“Is that your car horn?  Stop that!”

_ “Let me in.” _

“No!”  The horn continued to sound for upward of another minute before Reiner huffed.  “Fine!  Fine, just shut up!”

_ “Thank you.”   _ Galliard said in a rather singsongy voice and hung up the phone.

Once Galliard was actually invited into the actual apartment, he took it upon himself to take a cushion on the couch.  Reiner followed suit, taking the cushion on the opposite end, only after pouring a glass of water for Galliard, who took it with no complaint.  “Ok, Galliard.  What do you want to know?”

Galliard shrugged.  “Wow, straight to it.  Alright.  I’m fine, thanks for asking.  How are you?”  Reiner half-smirked.  “So really.  You didn’t seem to talk at all yesterday.  You were distracted by Colossus.”

“He hates that name.”

“Who wouldn’t, really?”

“True.  True.  Like when Marcel was called Jaws.”

Galliard raised an eyebrow.  “Yeah, what was that about?”

Reiner crossed his arms and legs, facing Galliard with his back pressed against the armrest.  “Oh, in middle school, he got pissed that he kept losing so he bit this one guy he was wrestling.  Got a semester suspension and couldn’t wrestle the rest of the year.”

The younger scoffed.  “Wow, what a wank.”

“Right?”

“I think the worst name I ever got was Porkchop.  For reasons, of course.”

“I thought it was Gaylord.”

Galliard’s somewhat chipper demeanor hardened real fast.  “Don’t.  Not that.  Don’t say that.  Please.  Brenner gave it to me.”

“Oh.  I’m sorry, I didn’t know it came from him.  You’re name is Gaylord in my phone.  You can change it to whatever you want.”  He handed Galliard his phone, to which he quickly edited it to ‘Porkchop’ instead.  “I thought you hated that one, too.”

“Yeah, but at least ‘Porkchop’ isn’t wrapped up in abuse.”

“Yeah…I’m sorry.  I didn’t know.”

“It’s ok.  I know you didn’t mean anything malicious.”  Galliard shifted a bit, the glass of water cold in his hands.  

Reiner inhaled deeply.  “It probably won’t make you feel better, but the worst nickname I ever got was Beefcake.  I always thought people were making fun of me, but after a while Bertl told me, ‘no, it’s just because you got super muscular really fast.’  I’m sure he was lying.”

“Was this in high school?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, he was lying.”  Galliard smirked.  “You got that name because there were...rumors.  About _ things _ .  About you.”

Reiner returned his grin.  “Ah, did you like what you heard rumors of?”

Galliard let out a loud ‘HA!’ much to Reiner’s dismay.  “For real?  I mean, I do like guys with substance, but...”

“You mean, like…”  Reiner made several gestures, wide, long gestures to which Galliard was not impressed.

“No, Braun, I mean I like guys with large dicks.”

“I know, I’m making the gestures.”

“And I’m saying the actual words.”  

Reiner shrugged  swallowing hard and not knowing exactly how to proceed from here, as the conversation took a turn he didn’t expect.  Better try to correct it.  “Well ok.  Um.  S-so, why are you here?  What did you want to talk about?”

“You got really upset when I mentioned your marriage.  Can I ask what happened?”

Reiner groaned and leaned into the couch, hoping the cushion would swallow him up and he wouldn’t have to face Galliard.  “Nothing.  We didn’t get married.  He called it off.”

“Why?”

“Because I was a fucking idiot.  I decided to drink to cope instead of doing something healthy, and I drove him away.  It’s what I do.  I kill my friends and...drive people away.”

Galliard glanced at the cup he held in his hands.  “You didn’t kill him.”  

Reiner furrowed his brow.  “You weren’t there.  You can’t say.”

“Then why don’t you actually tell me what happened?”

“No, I…”

“Reiner.” The softness of Galliard’s voice took Reiner by surprise. “Please. I need to know what happened to my brother.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back after like 2 months hfs
> 
> This is not the magnum opus here but hey, it's something.

“What?”  Ymir, who was previously sprawled across the couch, shot up in surprise and gaped at Annie.  Krista popped her head out from the kitchen, curiosity peaked.  “A date with Bertholdt, are you serious?”

Annie sat on the living room floor, school books littering the coffee table, with a tiny smile growing on her face.  “I’m serious.  He asked me this morning.”

“That’s so good!”  Krista smiled, bringing a fresh plate of cookies from the kitchen, and sat beside Ymir.  “He's super sweet.  He gives great hugs.”

“Yeah, he does.”

Ymir and Krista watched her scribbling in her notes, waiting for more information, but Ymir continued herself when Annie volunteered none.  “Well, how'd it happen?”

Annie raised an eyebrow.  “Didn't think you'd be the gossip type.”

“You thought wrong.” Ymir nibbled at the cookie Krista offered her.  “Spill the beans, Ann.”

“This morning in Soc. he asked me to the movie on Wednesday.  And I said yes. Not much to gossip about here.”  She herself accepted a cookie when Krista offered it.

“Hold it.  Wednesday? You're not ditching us like Marco, are you?”

Annie shook her head.  “We're still limo-ing.  Just going as a date as opposed to friends.  Why is Marco not going?”

Ymir reclined back and rested her head on Krista’s lap.  “He's taking his cousins instead.  I’m totally keeping his limo deposit though, for the trouble.”  A small ‘hmm was Annie’s reply.  “You know, I'll begrudgingly accept you ditching us to make out in the back of the theatre, but just don't get all soppy and lovey-dovey on the way there.”

“Like you two?”

“Hey, we were a pre-established relationship and that was to be expected. But still, you could do a _lot_ worse.  I guess if you were got get all gooey, no one'll blame you.  I mean, Mr Bertol _is_ a spicy little piece of ass.”  Ymir punctuated her sentence with a little eyebrow wiggle.  Both blondes stared at her.  “What? I’m gay, not blind!  Plus, I bet he fucks real well too, so you probably have something to look forward to if you're not too into his looks.”  Annie wrinkled her nose.  Dating or not, friend or not, she wasn’t exactly _fond_ of hearing lewd comments from anyone about anyone.  

Krista leaned in close and murmured in a low--low for Krista--sultry voice, “I don't have to worry about him stealing you from me, do I?”

“No, babe, you're too good to me.”

Annie rolled her eyes and continued her homework, ignoring the kissing and giggles from the couch.  While Ymir claimed Bertholdt was ‘a spicy piece’, she never really saw him in that light.  He was her friend; a kind, caring, well-mannered friend who cared so, _so_ much for her.  He was there with her during elementary school, middle school, high school.  He was always great at making her laugh.  He knew how perfect she and Marcel would be, and he was right.  Bertholdt was there during her and Marcel’s arguments, when they thought about splitting up.  He was there when they would make up and continue on.  He was there to hold her when Marcel passed.  He was there to pick up the pieces, to distract her, to help her mourn.

When did Bertholdt start to see her as something more than a friend?

After he split with Reiner?  

Before?

She definitely wasn’t oblivious to how much he had begun staring at her, especially in these past few months, but it wasn't entirely clear as to _why_.  At least not until today.  

  
+++  


“Is that why you wanted to talk to me?” Reiner asked.  “To know about Marcel?”

Galliard, for a while, didn't answer but instead let out a quiet sigh.  “Not at first.  I was willing to just let the hospital records speak for themselves, because at that point it didn't matter.  What mattered was that he was gone.  But you're so destroyed over it that it made me, I dunno, feel empty about it?  Like there was something more, something missing.  I know it was an accident.  You said you killed him.  But i know that's not true.”

Reiner bit his lip and averted his gaze.  “I feel I did.  We were only biking because I wanted to.  He didn't want to go, but I made him.  Logically, if anyone deserved to die, it should have been me.  Not him.”

“Stop it.” Galliard snapped, earning Reiner’s attention again.  “I don't want to hear that self-guilt nonsense from you.  You know damn well that nothing would change if it was you instead.  Everyone would be sad, everyone would mourn, and you'd leave Marcel feeling the way you do. Nothing would change, except your name on the tombstone instead of his.”

“Your mom would have both of her sons.”

“And your mom would have none. _So_ much better, right?   _God_ , you're stupid.”  Reiner frowned, though not surprised.  “So seriously, unless you actually sabotaged his motorcycle, or pushed him, tell me again how it was your fault? Did you push him?”

“No.”

“Did you sabotage his bike?”

“No.”

Galliard set his glass on the coffee table and crossed his arms.  “Then stop and actually tell me what happened?”

Reiner looked away again.  “What did the medical records say?”

“Does it matter?” His heart stung at Galliard’s words. Maybe it didn't matter...regardless of the circumstances, Marcel was still dead.  It doesn't matter what that piece of paper said.  “But he was wearing a helmet, so it must have been a hell of an impact if he was so badly damaged.  So.  Care to explain?”

“Not really.” He murmured.  

“I see.”  The two men sat in silence for a while, a long while.  Reiner kept his eyes on the floor, chewing a raw spot in his cheek.  Galliard, on the other hand, sat silent and still with his own gaze fixed on the glass of water.  

“You said so yourself, it didn't matter how it happened.  Just that it happened.”  Reiner said quietly.

The younger tsked.  “Clearly.  With it ripping you apart from the inside, of course it doesn't matter.  Nothing that affects you actually matters.  Right?  It's just you, after all.  Just Reiner.  It doesn't matter.  Just like you.  Right?”

“That's not what I said.”

Galliard shot a glare at him.  “You didn't have to.  It oozes from you, seeps from you.  You _reek_ of self-loathing, and it's disgusting.”

“If I'm disgusting, then why are you here?”

Galliard’s eyes rolled so far back into his head, Reiner was sure he'd sprain them somehow.  “If I have to keep answering that question, we've got bigger issues than your depression.  And I didn't say _you_ were disgusting.  It's your general outlook and perspective on life that’s gross.”  

Reiner scoffed.  “Thanks.”

“I'm not telling you how to grieve.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not.  It's just a little concerning when the most grossly positive person I've ever met struggles so much with something I know they're strong enough to overcome.  I think the first step to overcoming it is to talk about it, and who’s better to talk about it with than someone who's interested in that topic?”

“I…” Reiner started, but the words caught in his throat. A deep breath or two and he was able to murmur out, “I don't know how.”

“Ok,”  Galliard hummed, “start with why you guys went out riding.  Why'd you go out in the first place?”

“Well, I asked him to go with me because I wanted to talk about Bertl’s and my engagement.  I, uh, I was going to ask him to be my best man.  But we ended up talking about other life things instead.  It was one of those ‘gotta go _somewhere_ that isn't here _’_ kind of adventures up through the foothills.” A brief smile tugged at his mouth, but was replaced with his slight frown.  “It started to rain though, so we weren't out that long.  It poured before we got out of the area, and it was hard to see, so…”  He trailed off, hoping that would be satisfactory.

But it was not.  “So…?”

“So, as we were, um… we were coming down this steep road, he was in front of me, of course.  But this truck came barreling through this intersection.  We didn't notice at the time it was pulling a low flatbed trailer.  And…”  His voice wavered.  “You know…”

“Yeah.” Galliard murmured, matching Reiner's tone and volume.  “Ok.  Was he ever conscious?”

“Yeah.  He was pretty lucid until around the time the paramedics came.”

“Was he in pain?”

Reiner shrugged, doing his best to not break down.  He tried whatever he could--staring at Galliard, thinking of literally anything else--to try to get the images out of his head.  “No.  It didn't look like it.  Adrenaline probably.”

“Good.”  He smiled weakly.  “I hope he wasn't.  Did he say anything?”

“He asked what happened.  Asked if I was ok.  Asked if the truck driver was ok.”

Galliard chuckled.  “Of course he would ask if the truck driver was ok.  Damn softie.  Anything else?”

Reiner took another deep breath _.  ‘I don't feel well.  Reiner...something isn't right.  Something’s not right.  I'm scared...’_ “No.”

“Ah.  Was the driver ok? Since Marcel asked?”

“I don't know.  They sped off.  Probably didn't even know he hit them.” His voice finally cracked, and his damned eyes tossed a couple tears down his face.  Still, he did his best to maintain his own composure.

Galliard hummed in response.  Other than that, the two sat in more silence.  Reiner eyed his house guest, though it was a bit hard to recognize him through blurry, teary vision.  Galliard said nothing more, nor did he ask any more questions; Reiner presumed he was trying to process the information...anyone would, really.  The most he did was rest his face in his hands.  He stayed that way for a long while, and only after minutes passed did Reiner see him trembling.

“Galliard?”

“God.  Closure hurts like a bitch, doesn't it?”  He laughed through shaky breaths.  “I get it now.  I get why people hate it.”

Reiner contemplated scooting closer and putting a hand on his shoulder.  Contemplated.  “Are you ok?”

Galliard sniffed and rubbed his now red, wet eyes.  “Yeah.  I think so. You know, it wasn't your fault.  Don't take the credit for a stupid flatbed.”

“I'll try not to.  Sorry for making you feel bad about it.”

“You know, it's gotten a lot easier at home, for the most part.  I spend a lot of time there helping mom and dad.  Started taking online classes so I can be there more.  It works.  Helps them cope, you know.  And Mom, she's handling it well.  Mostly.” Reiner raised an eyebrow.  “Sometimes it's great with her.  But other times, I can tell by the way she looks at me.  I mean, Marcel and I look very similar, so…”

Reiner nodded knowingly.  The two had strikingly similar features, but he wouldn’t go so far as to say they were identical.  Still, for a mother to see one of her sons in the other...it reminded him of they way his own mother used to comment how similar he and his father looked.  It never felt good.  “It’s gotta be rough, huh?”

“Heh.  Yeah.”  Galliard took a deep breath and composed himself to the best of his ability--which, to Reiner, he did a great job. “Ah, huh.  Well, this was a good first step, don't you think? Do you feel better having gotten _something_ off your chest?”

Reiner shrugged.  “I guess?  Doesn't seem like much.”

“But you're opening up.  That's a start.” Galliard stood and stretched, checking the time on his phone  “Jesus, it's only been a half an hour?  Damn.”

“Yeah, well, time tends to fly by here.”

“Gross.  I think I'm going to head home.  I have to, uh, let some things sink in.”  Galliard mumbled.  Reiner agreed.  He, too, needed some time to decompress.   He may have done his best to keep composure but it was fading fast and clawing its way out.  “What are you doing tomorrow evening?”

“Nothing really.  I think Bertl’s got a busy schedule, so I'll probably be alone for most of the evening. Why?”

“Got to keep this going.  You have a _lot_ to unload.”  The younger made his way to the door.  

He watched him, eyeing him warily as he sauntered.  “Hey.  Why do you want to help me?”

Galliard swung open the door, noting the obviously doorknob-shaped dent that Reiner made in the wall.  “Like I said, Annie asked me to.  I may hate your guts, but you're still a person that needs help.”

“I don't need help.”

“Ok, keep telling yourself that.  See ya tomorrow, Asshole.”

Reiner sneered.  “Yeah, _bye bye_.”

After he left, Galliard made his way down the apartment stairs and slid into his car.  The lump in his throat refused to leave, no matter how much he swallowed, and his hands gripped tightly at the steering wheel.  His forehead rested against the wheel and he stayed there for a long while before eventually driving home.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW- mentions of suicidal thoughts** towards the end
> 
>  
> 
>   
> lmao this was _supposed_ to be a Bertholdt fic what am I doing?  
> 

**_TUESDAY 20 MAR_ **

 

The sun was blazing hot and managed to find its way into Reiner's eyes as he stepped out of his college campus.  A little groan of annoyance came from him, but he begrudgingly accepted his fate.  Another, louder groan of annoyance came when he caught Galliard from the corner of his eye.  Not now.  Still, Reiner greeted him with a small, albeit non genuine, smile.  He was starting to wonder if he could go one simple day without seeing this guy.  But, seeing as he was still Reiner, he waved.  “Hey, Galliard.  What’s going on?  I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until later.”

Galliard shrugged.  “I got bored.  I don’t think your neighbors like me, they kept staring at me.”

“What were you doing?”

“Waiting in the car by your building.”

Reiner raised an eyebrow.  “How long?”

“Time is a manmade construct.”  With a roll of his eyes, Reiner accepted the answer, if it could even be called that.  “Are you hungry?  I haven’t eaten shit all day.”

“Don’t eat shit, it’s bad for you.”  Reiner goofed;  Galliard wasn’t amused, evident by his expression.  “Hey, you don’t have to like my jokes.  Bertl likes my humor.”

“Congratulations.  Anyway, I'm hungry.  Let's go.”  He pivoted and started heading towards where he’d parked his car.  Reiner stared for a moment after him.  He could remember back in high school, Galliard wouldn’t be caught dead around him.  Inviting him to lunch and coming to his house would have been off the table.  He wouldn’t have given him a ride anywhere or talked him through his issues.  In high school, if Reiner pulled the ‘shit’ joke Galliard would have cut of all contact in the moment and go do something else.  The only reason Reiner had ever been invited to Galliard’s birthday parties was because of Bertholdt--Galliard enjoyed Bertholdt’s company.  Maybe he was a bit more intellectually stimulating than Reiner was  Unfortunately for him, Reiner was attached to Bertl’s hip.  

So of course it was difficult for Reiner to fully believe that Galliard was being genuine when it came to his recent surge of visits--did he actually want to help Reiner, or was he literally only doing this as a favor to Annie, as he said?  Would Galliard even try to do this much for  _ Reiner _ even if it  _ was _ a favor to Annie?

Doubtful.

Galliard glanced over his shoulder when he realized he wasn’t following him.  “What are you doing?”

Reiner opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted with a tap on the shoulder from behind--Mikasa.  “Oh hey Mikasa.  What’s up?”

Mikasa shifted on her feet.  He was unsure if it was out of nerves or just something she happened to be doing.  “I just wanted to thank you for helping Eren.”

He blinked.  Definitely not what he expected to hear.  “Oh.  You’re welcome, I guess.  So he told you?”

She nodded.  “I suppose I should have known though.  But he seems a lot happier now that it’s off his chest.  And I can be happier now too.”

“I’m glad to hear that!”  He smiled.  “Are you taking it well?”

“Yes.  I think so.  It hurt, but I can’t do anything to change it, so.”  

Reiner glanced around, looking to make sure Jean wasn’t close by--though through the corner of his eyes he could see Galliard crossing his arms.  “You know, I think I know a guy who might be interested in you.  If you’re looking.”

She raised an eyebrow.  “Who?”

“Wait, it’s not obvious?  He’s had a thing for you since our first year here and he doesn’t exactly hide it.”

“Is it Jean?”

“Whoa, how’d you know?”  Reiner gasped with fake bewilderment.  

Mikasa chuckled.  “I never really thought about him like that.  He’s kind of pompous.”

Reuner shrugged.  “Yeah, but who isn’t even a little pompous?”   _ Bertholdt... _ “He means well though.  I bet he’d treat you right.”

Soon, he heard Galliard’s irritated snapping.  “Hey, Braun, I’d really like to beat traffic if it can be helped.”

Another roll of his eyes he turned to face the younger blond.  “Yeah, yeah, sorry to waste your time.”  Reiner snapped back.  “You remember Mikasa from school?”

Galliard shook his head.  “Not really.”

“She was in Poms with Annie?”

“Not ringing any bells.  Nice to meet you, though. Officially.”  Galliard smiled, to Reiner’s surprise, a genuine smile and reached out his hand, and Mikasa reciprocated the handshake.

“You too,  _ officially _ .  Well, Reiner, I don’t want to keep you.  I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”  The three parted ways, Reiner and Galliard heading towards the younger’s car.  Mikasa seemed to head towards her own.  The walk towards the car was silent, but Reiner was teeming with irritation.  “Did you have to rush me?”  He asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

Galliard shrugged as he got into the driver seat.  “I didn’t know how long you were going to take.”

“I was talking to a friend.”

“Yes.”

“About some actual important things.”  When Galliard didn’t respond to that, he sighed.  “Well where’d you want to eat since you’re so  _ obviously _ famished?”

As Galliard started the car, he side-eyed Reiner.  For a moment, the older man thought he’d been a bit too snippy with him despite the fact that that’s all Galliard was comprised of--sarcasm and snippiness.  _  ‘Alright, get out,’ _ he expected Galliard to say.  Either that, or something along the lines of,  _ ‘nobody gives a fuck about what you consider to be important.’ _  If not one of those, he figured Galliard would have to say something else degrading or insulting.  It was  _ Reiner, _ after all.

“I shouldn’t have rushed you.”  Galliard replied.  “I’m sorry.”

Reiner sat there, stunned.  Words failed to form in his mind, all he could think to do was to stare at him like he’d somehow smirk as if the apology was a joke.  Surely he wouldn’t apologize to  _ Reiner _ , the Literal Waste of Space, as he’d referred to him years ago.  But he didn’t smirk.  He didn’t laugh.  He didn’t take it back.  Instead, the two remained quiet for the duration of the drive.  

They pulled into a parking spot shortly after, but the rarity of Galliard’s apology threw him off so much Reiner had to look around to figure out where they were.  What was this place?  The sandwich shop by Annie’s dad’s house?  Oh yeah, it was.  This was the place that Reiner was berated by the M.A. homophobe back in high school.  Still, despite the one hiccup, this place made great sandwiches, and was fairly inexpensive.  This was Marcel’s favorite place.

And Reiner didn’t want to be here.

“I didn’t know you liked subs.”  He murmured.  

“I don’t, but Marcel loved this place.  I thought it’d be a good place to sit and talk.”

_ No. _  “I don’t really like this place.”  He lied.  

Galliard didn’t seem to pay attention--or, if he did, he just ignored Reiner’s claim.  Perhaps he knew it was a blatant lie; so Reiner followed suit.  “You don’t have to order anything if you don’t like the food here; but I know you do so stop lying.”  Yep, he knew. Reiner lowered his gaze.  Was he so obvious?  Was he so easy to read?

This thought ran through his mind several times as he and Galliard ordered their food and took a seat at a relatively clean booth in the corner.  As Reiner went to take the side that was against the wall, Galliard stopped him.  “Let me have the wall.”  Galliard said--did he hear a little bit of panic in his voice?--and punctuated it with a small, “please.”  Reiner nodded and allowed him to sit there.  He wasn’t sure why it was so important, but he didn’t argue.  “Thanks.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”  He took a quick sip of his brand soda and glanced around to see how this place hadn’t changed in years.  He could still remember coming in here for the first time after it opened.  He was with Marcel, of course, Bertholdt, and Annie.  Marcel was so excited, he ordered two sandwiches.  “I haven’t been here in a long time.”

“It’s gotten better.  The food, I mean.  The color scheme is still really... _ eh _ .”  Reiner raised a brow at Galliard’s decor critique.  “What?  It clashes.”

“Way to be a stereotype.”  He joked.

Galliard scoffed, and held his thumb and pinky to the side of his head.  “Ring ring.  ‘Yeah, Kettle?  This is Pot, you’re gay.’”

Reiner half-chuckled.  “Yeah, ok.”

“You know, Braun, you don’t have to be a girl or gay to notice that this color scheme is a crime on vision.  They probably painted it this way so you’d be too blinded to notice that it’s basically low-budget Subway.”

Galliard began to demolish his sandwich--fuck, he really was hungry.  Reiner breathed deep, not really focusing on his own food, but instead chose to focus on the interior instead and the memories it brought back.  Their last wrestling match, the first time they were here.  Marcel’s birthday, the second time.  Celebratory lunch after Bertl got accepted to YFU, third.  Random outting with Marcel and Annie, fourth.

“Hey, why aren’t you eating?”  Galliard questioned, pulling Reiner out of his memory-counting.  

“Not hungry.  I’ll take it home.  Galliard, let me ask you something. Why do you hate me?”

Clearly this wasn’t what he expected Reiner to ask.  “What?”

“You hate me.  Always have.  I just want to know why.  What did I do, or say that made you hate me so much?”

Galliard was taken aback, but he did his best to form an acceptable answer.  “I hate you because you took my brother from me.”

A stinging pain shot through Reiner’s chest.  Yeah.  Of course, he blames me for Marcel.  Of course he does, why wouldn’t he?  It’s my fault.  I knew it.  I knew it, I knew it, I…

“Stop.”  Galliard frowned.  “Stop that train of thought.  I can see it.  I could have worded it better.  I hate the fact that you made Marcel stop being  _ my _ best friend.”  He leaned back into the booth and crossed his arms.  “For all my life, Marcel was by best friend.  We would play all the time, hang out, watch movies, go to the park.  But then middle school hit, you come into the picture, and all of a sudden I don’t see Marcel anymore.  Instead of coming home and seeing me, he brings you along and does stuff with you.  Sometimes he doesn’t come home, he spends the day at your place.  My best friend, my only friend, was gone.  Because of you.”

Reiner lowered his gaze again, instead fixing it to the uneaten sandwich on his plate.  “Sorry.”

“Childish.  I know.  Honestly, I was just really jealous.  Why were you, Reiner Braun, better than me, Marcel’s brother?  Why’d he like you more?  It seemed even as we got older, he would still rather hang around you, despite how much you tried to mimic him.  God, it was annoying as fuck.  But still, he chose you.  Why not me?”

“I’m so sorry.”

Galliard furrowed his brow.  “Shut the fuck up.  Stop blaming yourself for things you have no control over.  One of these days you really have to drop the self-pity.  Do you honestly hate yourself  _ that much?” _  When Reiner didn’t respond, only stared at his sandwich, Galliard’s expression softened.  “You really do, don’t you?”

“I always have.”

“Why?”

“I’m nothing.”

Galliard sighed.  “Do you know how many people would disagree with you?  Bertholdt.  Annie.  That girl you talked to today.  Your mother.  Those friends you mentioned you have.  They all seemed to see a little more than just ‘nothing’ in you.  Are you saying they’re all wrong?”  When Reiner didn’t reply, Galliard leaned in.  “Are you saying I’m wrong?”

“I’m saying, why am I worth anything?”

“Reiner.  Can I tell you something personal?  Something I’ve never told anybody else?”  Reiner nodded.  “After the incident with Brenner, I felt the same way.  Empty.  Worthless.  Dead.  Like I deserved it.  Like I was nothing after it.  There was one time that, um…that,”  He stuttered, but kept going, “that, uh, Marcel had to talk me down from a bridge.”  

Reiner’s attention was no longer on his food, but on the boy in front of him.  For some reason, after Galliard’s confession, he couldn’t keep his mind off of a small, fifteen year old boy ready to jump.  But he didn’t.  He was here.  Alive.  

“But then,”  Galliard continued, a tiny hint of a smile forming, “when I found out what all of you did for me...you, Bert, Marcel, Annie; when I heard what you did for me, I knew I must have been worth something.  I had to take that and hold onto it, because my life  _ did _ depend on it.”

Reiner felt himself smile a little bit as well.  “You heard?”

“Yeah.  It was on the news, even.  Got the principal at dumbass Marley Academy to actually take action and expel him.  It ruined that fucker’s life, I bet.”

“That fucker had it coming.”

“What a fucking fucker.”  The two shared a very brief laugh at the expense of ‘That Fucker’ before Galliard veered back on track.  “What I’m saying is, you’re not nothing, because you’re worth something to me.  And maybe I should have done a better job showing gratitude.  I’m sorry I’m an asshole.”

Reiner fake-grimaced.  “Stop apologizing.  It sounds weird coming from you.”

“Well  _ sooooorryyyy. _ ”  Galliard drawled, inciting Reiner to smile more.  “You look a lot better when you smile.  It works better with that sad, sad face.  It needs all the help it can get.”

A scoff.  “Wow, way to dampen my mood again.”  He joked.

“That’s what I do.”  Galliard shrugged and promptly went to finish his food.  

Reiner wrapped his own food up in several napkins for easy transport.  It was strange, how much Galliard’s story made him think just a little bit differently, but how much of a difference that slight thought adjustment improved his mood, at least in the moment.  And in this moment, it was uncanny how very  _ Marcel _ this guy actually was, as different as they were.  ‘Abrasive,’  that’s how Bertl described him.  Yes, that was the correct word, but maybe an outdated word.  After all, things become less abrasive over time.  

“Hey, Galliard, what are you doing tomorrow around midnight?”

He raised his brow.  “Uh, probably sleeping.  Why?”

“Do you want to come to the premiere of Iron Diamond?”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK AFTer 6546284 years of not doing anything with anything ever.
> 
> If anyone still cares about this fic, since its been months, thanks for being patient. I had a lot of mental health things I had to work through, and it really inhibited my ability to write anything. But I'm back and plan to keep going! Thank you! I love you! ♥

Chapter 20

 

 _ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)            Two Years Ago - Sun September 14 at 3:46 pm _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_I’m emailing you because you don’t answer my phone calls.  You won’t respond to my texts and you keep ignoring me on campus.  I call your mom’s house hoping you’ll be there, but she keeps telling me you’re busy, she won’t let me talk to you either.  Your dad got mad at me the last time I called so I’m trying this. Please answer me._

_-Reiner_

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Mon September 15 at 9:13 am _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_I saw you today.  You were coming out of your Soc class.  I know you saw me. Please, please talk to me.  I’ll be sitting near the Engineering building by that big tree in the courtyard around noon.  I want to talk._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Mon September 15 at 8:32 pm _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_Hey Bertl.  You didn’t come talk to me today.  I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry. I was hoping to tell you in person._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Tue September 16 at 7:09 pm _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_Hey Bertl.  I ran into Annie today.  She said you were doing well, as well as you could be, any way.  I hope it’s true, and that you didn’t just tell her to say that. I hope you’re doing well.  I miss you. So so so so so much._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)            Two Years Ago - Wed September 17 at 6:56 am _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_When are you coming home?_

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Thu September 18 at 4:29 pm _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_I really want to talk to you.  Please, at least answer. Or let me know you’re getting these at all._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Thu September 18 at 6:08 pm _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_I’m making dinner.  There’s enough for you if you want._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Fri September 19 at 2:02 pm _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_I’m so sorry for the things I said to you.  I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean any of them.  I shouldn’t have said those things. They were awful, wrong.  I was wrong. I don’t mean it. I don’t believe them. I’m sorry I used things you hate about yourself against you.  It wasn’t me. I didn’t say those things. That wasn’t me, that was a broken man who wanted to die. Please._

_It’s so lonely here.  I need you back. Please, please come back.  I can’t get through this on my own. I need you. You’re my everything.  You’re my life. Through this whole thing, the only thing keeping me sane was you.  I never meant to hurt you. I shouldn’t have said what I did. You’re an amazing person._

_You’re my whole world.  My life. It hurts to breathe without you here.  It hurts to go outside and see our friends without you.  My arms hurt when I can’t hold you. I want to kiss you again.  I want to hold you. I want you to fall asleep on my chest when we watch tv.  I want to tuck you in and hold you while we sleep. I want to make breakfast in the morning for you.  I want to listen to you do your homework on that loud keyboard you have. I want to listen to the new things you’ve learned, and watch your eyes light up when you go into detail.  I want to tell you everything I love about you, because you deserve to hear it. I want to thank you for never giving up on me. I want you to come back and tell me how dumb some of my jokes are but smile anyway because that’s how you are._

_It’s not worth eating.  I can’t sleep. Please. Please, Bertholdt._

_You’re the only reason I’m still here.  That’s why I said those things. I didn’t want you around when I did it so I said those things to make you go away.  But you never went away. You stayed there with me because you’re the most amazing person, the kindest person I’ve ever met.  I owe you my life. You saved me. You kept me from doing something unspeakable and I should have treated you better, Bertholdt.  Please, don’t ever think I actually think those things about you._

_I never would._

_I never could._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Sat September 20 at 8:54 am _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_Come back._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Sat September 20 at 8:57 am _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_Come back, Bertholdt. Please._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Sat September 20 at 8:59 am _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_I’ll do anything._

_I’m begging you, please._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Sat September 20 at 9:03 am _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_You can hate me because I deserve it and I’ll just be happy that you came back._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Sat September 20 at 9:04 am _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_Let me know that you’re still listening.  Let me know if you even think about me at all._

_I need to know if you even care._

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Sat September 20 at 9:09 am _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_Do you care?_

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Sun September 21 at 10:55 am _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_I did something I regret yesterday.  Can we talk about that, at least? Please?_

_______

_ >>>To: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu)           Two Years Ago - Mon September 22 at 11:38 pm _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Me _

_I love you._

_______

_ >>>To: Me                                                                     Two Years Ago - Mon September 22 at 11:49 pm _ _  
_ _ >>>From: Bertie Bott <3 (b.hoover@ymir-fritz.edu) _

_Stop._

 

+++

 

**WEDNESDAY 21 MAR**

 

Bertholdt took slow, nervous steps as he made his way over to his seat beside Annie.  His heart pounded in his chest, his hands shook. The small box in his hands seemed to weigh heavier with each step, threatening to pull him down to the floor; but he was determined to make it to his destination.  Annie was already there, as usual, and kind enough to place her things on Bertholdt’s chair so no one would take it. “Hey, Annie.” Bertl smiled.

“Hey.” She replied, moving her things so he could sit down.  “Good morning.”

“Good morning.  Um,” Bertholdt sat down, gently sliding the tiny box over to Annie, “happy early birthday.  I was going to wait until tomorrow but I didn't want to forget it at home.” Annie took the box and opened it, a bit surprised that Bertholdt would go so far as to get her a gift.  Inside the box was a small, thin silver bracelet with her birthstone in the middle.

Indeed, she was _very_ surprised.  “It's beautiful.” She hummed.

“I hope you like it… I know you don't really wear jewelry but I saw it and thought of you, so…” Before Bertholdt finished his thought, Annie was already slipping the bracelet on her wrist.

“It must have been expensive.”

Bertl shrugged.  “I mean, it cost money.  I won't say if it was a lot or a little.”

“Either way, thank you.”  Bertholdt nearly had to squint, but he could have sworn a tiny smile began to form on Annie’s lips and his heart began to soar.  “I made reservations for us for five thirty. It's a sort of upscale place but you can wear whatever you want.” She eyed Bertholdt's attire, which wasn't much different than what he usually wore, anyway, a nice sweater and some type of collared shirt underneath, which also was probably long sleeved-- _no wonder he's always so damn warm all the time._  “What you're wearing now should be fine, actually.”  

Bertl glanced down at his clothes and tried to flatten whatever wrinkles were there.  “I'll wear something appropriate.” After straightening out the nonexistent wrinkles, he looked back to Annie, who pulled her phone from her pocket, and stared at it in confusion.  “What's wrong?”

Without saying a word, she handed Bertl her phone.  He read the text that was displayed on the screen.

 **_[Galliard] March 21   8:02 am_ **  
_Guess I'll be joining you at the_  
_movies tonight.  I’ll try to smuggle_ _  
_ in snacks.

A simple ‘huh’ was all Bertholdt muttered.  

“Did you tell him?” Annie asked.

It was Bertholdt's turn to be confused.  “No, you didn’t?”

“No.”

“Oh.  The more the merrier?”

Annie shrugged and put her phone back in her pocket.  “I guess. He doesn't really know any of our friends, though.  I don't even think he's seen the rest of the series. Doesn’t seem like something he’d be interested in.”

Bertholdt ‘huh’d once more and pulled his notebooks from his backpack.  

Throughout class, Bertholdt found his eyes drawn to the silver band around her wrist.  It reflected light into his eyes as she wrote. It wasn't blinding by any stretch, but it was definitely distracting, at least in the moment.  No one else seemed to notice. Annie herself didn't notice; as it reflected light at him, it also reflected light at her. God, she was so pretty.  He really loved the way her bangs fell when she leaned over her notebook, and how she tucked them behind her ear when they got too in her way. She had this air of content when she focused on her work.  Much more relaxed than usual. It was nice. How no one managed to swoop in and take her before Bertholdt did astounded him. The fact that no one else seemed to take an interest in her as a potential was shocking--not that he was complaining about it.  

He looked down at his notebook, frowning at the chicken scratch he'd produced over the last few moments.   _I really have to focus…_  but he kept getting distracted.  He was distracted by her clearing her throat, by her reaching into her pocket for her chapstick, by her applying the chapstick and setting the little tube, adorned with little pandas and cherries, down on the desk. Cherry.  So her lips would theoretically taste like cherry. Not that he expected anything from her, he found himself thinking how nice it'd be to test that theory. If he was lucky, maybe he'd be able to test that this evening. Maybe he'd be able to test more... _theories_.  

Bertholdt's teeth clenched at his own imagination.  Of course, he doubted that Annie would do that. Hell, he couldn't even see himself doing that, at least not tonight. _Focus, you doofus._ He managed to pry his attention back to the front of the class.  

In fact, he tried too hard to keep himself focused, he barely heard Annie leaning in and whispering to him.  “What?”

“I said, are you feeling alright?” She repeated.

“Yeah, why?”

“You look uncomfortable right now.”

 _Shit.  Does she know?  It's ok, play it cool._  “Yeah that's just who I am as a person.”  

_Why am I a moron?_

+++

What is it he’d said?   _‘I can’t waste my life with someone who can’t love themself enough to have a life with me?’_ Yeah, that’s what he’d said, among other things.

 _‘I can’t love myself.  I can’t love myself enough to live, but I love you more than enough.’_  That was his reply, delivered on his knees with his fists balled in the hem of Bertholdt’s shirt hard enough to leave wrinkles.

 _‘I’m scared...I’m scared I can’t love you the way you need.  Please let go of me,’_  That wounded him.   _‘and take the ring back.’_ That killed him.

Reiner furrowed his brow.  God, even when he was delivering a lethal blow to their eight-year commitment, Bertholdt was polite enough to use the word ‘please’.   _God,_ why was he like that?  As he tossed the groceries he finally bought into the fridge, Bertholdt swung the door open, nearly making the dent Reiner had made prior much bigger, and bolted to his room.  Reiner raised an eyebrow but didn’t really pay much mind (aside from the annoying fact that Bertholdt left the door open that Reiner had to close). “Reiner!” Bertholdt emerged flustered from his room wielding two sweaters on hangers, one a deep green and the other a sort of blue-gray.  “Quick, which one?”

“Why?”

“I’m going out with Annie tonight, I didn’t know which would be better.”

Reiner furrowed his brow again.  “I don’t know if I’m comfortable picking out clothes for my ex to wear on a date with his new partner.”

Bertholdt frowned.  “Oh. Yeah, sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault.  Here.” Reiner held each sweater up to Bertholdt, irritated at himself for letting himself be irritated at Bertholdt.  “The green one. It brings out your eyes.” He smiled, eliciting a smile from Bertl.

“Thanks.”  Bertholdt pulled his sweater from today off and replaced it with the green one.

“When’s your date?”

“She’s waiting outside in the car.  I just came up to change.” He straightened out any potential wrinkles.  “Hey, did you invite Porco to the movie?”

Reiner took the liberty of wrangling Bertl’s clothes and held them in his arms until Bertl left.  “Yeah. Is that ok?”

“That’s fine.  I’m surprised though.  Why?”

He thought a moment.  “I wanted to start fresh with him.  I wanted to try to clear any animosity between us, and what better way to do that than to invite him to watch a trash movie.”

“Hey, those movies are gold!  But still, as long as you’re ok with it.”

“If I wasn’t, would I have invited him?”

Bertl shrugged.  “I guess not.” He made his way to the door, then he stiffened.  “I’m nervous.”

“You’ll be fine.  She’s your friend.  You’ve been fine up until now, just keep doing what you’re doing.  That’s all you’ve ever had to do.” A quick smile exchanged between the two and Reiner was left alone in the apartment.  Again.

Reiner sighed and put Bertholdt’s clothes away, straightened the pillows on his bed, and the pillows on his own bed.  He wandered around the apartment, doing nothing. He wouldn’t lie if anyone asked, it had been rather lonely at the apartment since Bertholdt’s spare time had been preoccupied with not only school, but work and most recently, Annie.  When was the last time he and Bertholdt had an afternoon together, just the two of them where one wasn’t drunk and the other wasn’t mad? Reiner didn’t bother turning on the television. There was nothing on at this hour. Instead, he opted to lie down on the couch and stare at the ceiling--stare through the ceiling.  “What would you think of us now?” Reiner asked out loud, as if he expected an answer. Of course, he wouldn’t get one. He scoffed at himself for being foolish enough to expect one, foolish enough to think he could even hear Reiner’s rhetorical questions. “What would you think of me?”

He felt, in his pocket, a vibration; he’d gotten a text message.  ‘I love you. Always will. ♥ ‘

Despite the message being from his mother, Reiner couldn’t help but start crying.  The timing was just too perfect for it to be a coincidence. He had to call her; and he did.

+++

“So.”  Annie hummed.  Her menu was folded neatly on the table in front of her, and her hands were folded neatly on top of that.  She'd eaten here before and had no desire to browse their selection. Bertholdt, on the other hand, didn't like anything the restaurant had to offer, so he was scrounging his menu desperately for something tolerable.  “Have you decided yet?”

“Uh...I'm looking.  Do they have anything that didn't spend it's living life under water?”

“Order off the kids menu, they don't care.  The grilled cheese is bomb if you do.”

Bertholdt opted to go for that, and folded his own menu.  His eyes scanned over Annie, admiring how rather surprising it was to see her in something other than her hoodie.  To boot, her hair was down which was a rarity as well, falling just long enough to touch her shoulders… where the off-shoulder sleeves of her blouse really drew his attention to her neck, collarbone, and… Bertl ground his teeth and urged himself to focus.  “What do you usually do on your birthday? I mean, we haven't seen you the past couple years so I wasn't sure if you've changed tradition.”

Annie shrugged.  “I do the same thing.  Come here with Dad, go home and have Krista shove a homemade cake at me, eat said cake, and sleep.”

“Krista makes you cakes?  I'm jealous. She doesn't make anyone else cakes.”

“It's probably because I live with Ymir, she feels obligated.  But I won't tell her to stop because they're delicious.”

“They're better than Ymir’s baking.”

Annie smirked.  “All Ymir bakes are pot pastries anyway.  It's safer to just avoid her cooking altogether.  Be glad you didn't come over anytime in October. She wouldn't stop baking things for her friends, and the whole apartment reeked of weed the entire time.”

“Damn.”

“‘Damn’ is right.”  The two ordered their meals once the server arrived, and although Bertholdt felt childish for ordering the food off the kids menu, he tried balancing the scales a bit by ordering glasses of wine for both of them; it seemed to only increase the patheticness when it sat alone beside his grilled cheese.  

Bertl eyed his food and drink choice, and noted how strange it was.   _It's the perfect way to describe me right now,_ he thought to himself.   _She doesn't seem to mind, though.  I think this is going well?_

“Bertholdt,”  Annie murmured after a few moments, “what made you decide to ask me out?”

This caught him off guard, and he sat there for a minute, grilled cheese in hand as he tried to string words into a sentence in his mind.  “W-well, I think you're an amazing person. You're smart, and you're fun to be around.  You bring out the best in people.  In us, anyway.  And you're, uhm…” Bertholdt cleared his throat, face without a doubt tinting itself red, “you're really pretty.”

The blonde smiled, peering down at her own food.  “Thanks.”

“S-so, what make you decide to say yes when I asked you?  You said you weren’t ready to date.”

She prodded the food on her plate with her fork.  “To be honest, I still don’t think I am, but like I said before, you’re kind."

He felt his expression fall, if only just a little.  "Is that it?"

"And you're responsible, patient, passionate about the things you love.  You're funny, and you already know me. I know you won’t hurt me, and if you do, you know I have no trouble kicking your ass.”  

Bertl fake gasped.  “Annie, don’t say the ‘A-Double-S’ word!  That’s a swear!”

“Ok, Pieck, calm down.  I can say ass if I want.  Ass.”

“But think of the children!”  Bertl kept up his charade, starting to flail his arms around a little bit to accentuate his false horror.  “Think of that poor baby sitting over there! You don’t want their first word to be ‘A-Double-S,’ do you?”

“Ass.  Shit. Fuck.”

“Dear Lord, you’re uncontrollable!”

“Of course.  No one controls me.  I don’t even control myself.  It’s alarming, really.”

“Man, I completely misjudged you, Ms. Leonhardt.  I thought you were a dainty lady but clearly you’re a woman of the seas, according to your sailor swearing.  And now the restaurant of choice makes sense.”

Annie lifted her wine glass and pressed it to her lips, peering over the rim at Bertholdt.  “I tend to swear more when I drink.”

“Well, if you’re going to up your swear limit, I might as well follow your example.”  He lifted his glass. “Cheers?”

“To swearing?”  

“To swearing.”

_Clink._


End file.
